A Change of Plan
by Idan
Summary: "We have Lorelei because Red John planned for us to." Jane and Lisbon try to stay one step ahead of Red John's plans for them while figuring out how to turn the tables.
1. Chapter 1

Title: A Change of Plan

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist.

Author's Note: This was meant to be a one-shot but ideas keep coming, so I guess I'll see where it takes me. This is dedicated to all the people who took the time to review my first fic, Wanted. I hope it is a worthy thank-you!

_

Chapter One: Just When You Thought It Was Safe...

Teresa Lisbon pulled her office door closed behind her and closed her eyes briefly against the headache that had formed during the lengthy and useless interrogation of Lorelei. She'd finally decided to let Cho field the smirks and innuendos for a while; he was seemingly impervious, and they weren't aimed at him anyway.

"Dammit, Jane," she muttered, casting an angry glance at the couch. Then she blinked, startled by the fact that the actual man was lying there instead of the mental image she had scolded and pleaded with off and on for six long months. She raised her voice. "What the hell was that?"

He opened his eyes and regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then raised himself into a sitting position.

"And don't you dare lie to me," she snarled, interpreting his silence as a search for alternatives to the truth, whatever that might be. "You are supposed to tell me about any relationship you have with the suspect before we interrogate her. If you still worked for me I would kick your ass." She paused, her anger growing as she looked at him. The hurt and frustration of the last six months came back with startling clarity as she stalked over to stand in front of her desk. "In fact, I don't think I should let that stop me!"

"No," he mused, "you probably shouldn't. But hear me out first."

"Right." She folded her arms and leaned against her desk, still glaring. It felt good; he hadn't stayed in the church long enough for her to feel like she had gotten her say, and there hadn't been any opportunity while they were trying to trap Red John. Dammit, after six months she deserved a rant, didn't she?

He got up and started to pace, which took her aback. His nervous energy was a bad sign, reminding her of how tense he'd been during that unexpected hug, how his heart had raced, alerting her that it was more than just a way to confirm she was wearing her vest. His showing emotion was never a good sign. "I should have told you, yes. But we have bigger problems. I think I see what's really going on here, but I haven't had time to finish working it out, so this won't be the finely detailed, impeccable reasoning you've come to expect from me."

He glanced at her to see if she would take exception to his characterization, but she merely continued to glare at him. He rubbed at his face; his head probably still hurt after his latest beating, she realized, then wondered if he was doing that to elicit sympathy. It wasn't going to work, she promised herself.

"We have Lorelei because Red John planned for us to," he said. "He's never sloppy, and using Wainwright as his stand-in only makes sense if we were meant to discover it."

He paused, glancing at her again to see if she was following his logic. She frowned. "Okay," she said slowly. "If his plan was to snatch you, he wouldn't have had Lorelei stay so long where we knew you were."

"Exactly. So, he means for us to interrogate Lorelei. Why?"

"To give us false information? Throw us off the trail?"

"Why throw us off? We aren't on the trail," he said in frustration. "No, it's something more insidious." He paced a few more steps. "He told me he found out about the con when the FBI did. That means he had some time, but not much, to implement an alternative plan. So it's not something overly elaborate, which means it's also not something I might ordinarily have been looking for."

Her headache was beginning to fade as she concentrated on what he was saying. "So what's the goal of this alternative plan? He knows he can't turn you now."

"To punish me for rejecting him," he said flatly. "Lorelei is here to wreck any chance I have to returning to my real life, the one I chose instead of what he offered."

"First of all," she pointed out, "your chances of coming back to work here are slim to none, given the charges against you in Nevada, where, I remind you, the CBI has no jurisdiction."

"Meh. I've beaten worse raps."

"Second, I fail to see how Lorelei could achieve any such thing. Your sex life"—now there was a phrase she hadn't ever envisioned saying to him—"isn't a factor in this case, as long as I don't make the mistake of letting you back into the room with her."

He grinned at her and sat back down on the couch, apparently having finished the agitating part of this conversation, at least from his point of view. "Ah, Lisbon. You're not seeing the big picture. You've pointed out the obstacles between me and my job here, but you haven't given much thought to how they might be overcome."

"A ridiculous amount of paperwork that only extreme groveling on your part would tempt me to do," she retorted.

"Extreme groveling and the confidence that I'm still the person you thought I was. Six months is a long time, and any idiot could figure out that you're angry and hurt, and probably questioning what you thought you knew about me. Red John is not an idiot, and he's taking the opportunity to exploit the doubt I inadvertently put in your mind. Through Lorelei. Because that part of the con isn't something you've seen before, and I made the mistake of not warning you about it before she blindsided you. For which I am genuinely sorry."

"You should be," she said, but her tone was softening despite her resolve not to let him off the hook with a mere apology.

"As for the groveling," he mused, "and the charges, that can all be avoided once I produce the undercover operation paperwork that Wainwright signed off on."

"He did no such thing!"

"Well, he's not here to point that out, is he?"

Her headache returned with a vengeance, and she rubbed at her forehead and let out a long sigh. "You know what? For once I do not want to know." Aagh, the easy way was wrong but so tempting, she thought. "But I am not giving you back pay no matter what paperwork you forge!"

"Fair enough. But you see my original point: the best way Red John can keep me from getting my life back is to turn you against me. It would particularly appeal to him since he made you a condition of the life he offered me, and I chose you over him. He knows the only way he could ever turn me is if you weren't here."

"Then why doesn't he just kill me?" she asked, finally voicing a question she knew they had both thought about over the years.

"Because that ends the game, and that's not what he wants. He's not through with me yet."

"How does that end the game?" she asked, surprised. "I always thought it would just give you one more reason to get him."

He gave a rueful smile, shaking his head. "No, Lisbon. He took my family away from me once; I don't have enough in me to go through that again. I'd be dead or insane or both, but either way the game is over. He wins, but he doesn't get to play anymore." He hunched over, leaning his elbows on his knees, and looked at his clasped hands. "Even if by some miracle I survived intact, nobody in the CBI would ever want anything to do with me again. Nor any other law enforcement agency, I suspect. I'd have very little chance to present a serious challenge to him, even if I were still able to care about doing so."

She let her anger slide out of her in a long sigh and went to sit beside him on the couch. "Okay. So he sent Lorelei to play mind games with me and convince me to kick your ass to the curb. Which wouldn't surprise anybody, since you more than deserve it. But you know I'm not actually going to do it, so what's your stupid plan?"

His smile took her breath away. "Lisbon, you are my secret weapon. Red John can't even envision a person as thoroughly good, as unselfish, as you are. He thinks you're like the rest of us mere mortals, driven by anger or greed or jealousy."

"Don't flatter yourself," she snorted.

"Lisbon, it's not like you to be so unobservant. Vegas is full of beautiful women of all shapes and sizes, but who does he send to lure me into his plan? An intense little brunette who happens to use your shampoo."

She blinked at him, not sure she'd heard correctly. "Shampoo?" she echoed, puzzled.

"Yes. All designed originally to make it easier for me to trust her, subconsciously. And now tailor made to offend you."

Her expression twisted in disgust. "He knows how I smell?"

"Apparently. I double-checked just now to make sure I was remembering correctly."

Okay, she thought, that explained his perplexing exit from the interrogation room. But oh God, she was totally creeped out now. She vowed to throw away her shampoo when she got home and try something new. Preferably something with a downright obnoxious scent.

Jane glanced at her, but he apparently decided he'd made his point. "We don't have much time," he said. "We need to appear to be having a serious fight, not calmly discussing our options."

"So I take it you want him to think he's succeeding."

"Yes. If he thinks Lorelei is having the desired effect, he'll let her live, at least for a while. It will give you time to break her. Try turning the con back on her, Lisbon. Red John must have told her about you when he was giving her instructions. I wouldn't be surprised if she is a little jealous of you. You can use that."

"Okay." This was not going to be fun, she thought.

Jane was giving her that look she hated, the one that said he didn't think she could handle everything and was choosing which pieces to leave out. Well hell, she thought, if she was supposed to be hating him, she might as well relieve some of her frustrations.

Her punch to his upper arm actually shifted him over a bit, and his yelp of pain was genuine—and obviously loud enough to be heard in the bullpen, where they heard scattered applause. Jane's expression went from wounded to amused—he always loved an audience. "Nicely done," he murmured, "but would you like to tell me what that was for?"

"You deserved it," she retorted. "The whole truth, Jane, and I mean it. So help me, if you start hiding things from me because you're afraid Red John's stupid plan will actually work, I will beat you black and blue. And then I'll let the team line up for their turns."

His grin only lasted a moment, possibly fleeing the idea of Cho taking a serious swing at him. "I hope it won't come to that. I was just going to point out that he's drawn the wrong conclusions about your motivations, but for the plan to work you'll need to validate them."

"Great. So what are my motivations?"

"Since he can't grasp that you're driven by a sense of justice and compassion, he obviously thinks you're in love with me."

"God, and I thought my life couldn't get worse," she groaned.

He grinned. "Right. Although," he added, sobering, "I'd be very unhappy if I thought I were causing you that particular pain."

"You have nothing to worry about," she said firmly, making sure to hold eye contact.

"Good." He kept his scrutinizing look short, leaning back onto the couch in a deceptively relaxed posture that she knew was designed to make her feel less uncomfortable. "So he's expecting an element of possessiveness in your reaction. Romantic love is the easiest to transform into hate, after all. And that's what he's trying to do here. So keep in mind that you're supposed to be heroically restraining yourself from scratching Lorelei's eyes out."

"I think I can manage that."

"So that's the essence of the plan, Lisbon: just be furious with me, and don't pull your punches. Have me tossed out, make whatever threats you like. It'll be cathartic. Have some fun with it."

"And then what?"

"And then I'm going to pester you relentlessly, wanting back in to interrogate Lorelei. I'll wheedle and beg and try every angle I can think of, no matter how nasty you are to me. You should pretend to misinterpret my desperation as obsession with Lorelei."

"And what's the point of all this, besides keeping Lorelei alive a little longer?"

"When Red John decides to move to the next part of his plan, it'll be based on false assumptions. He'll think I'm isolated and vulnerable. He'll think there's nobody coming to my rescue this time. And as long as everything seems to be going his way, he won't be thinking up something worse to do." He frowned. "Although there must be something else coming. Lorelei's taunts alone wouldn't be enough to make you give up on me after all these years."

"I'll never give up on you," she promised softly, glancing at him to make sure he saw she was telling the truth. "No matter what."

He smiled at her. "I know. You have no idea what a gift that is. I don't think I'd be able to take the risk of playing this out if I thought it had a chance of succeeding." He tilted his head slightly and asked, "Out of curiosity, is there anything I could do that you'd find unforgivable?"

"Dying," she replied impulsively. Then she cleared her throat, looking away. "Although I'm sure I could make a longer list if I had time to think about it."

"You do that."

They looked at each other for a moment, aware that time was running out. They'd been too quiet for too long already. Neither had expected this reunion to be so short, with no time to relax or rebuild.

"If you disappear again, I will hunt you down this time and hurt you, I swear to God," she said fiercely.

"I'll fill up your voicemail on a regular basis," he promised. He reached for her hand and looked soberly at her. "Trust what you know, Lisbon. You know me. Don't doubt that. No matter what."

"I won't."

He gave her hand a squeeze and stood, drawing her up with him. "And if you could avoid hitting me in the nose or the ribs, I'd appreciate it."

"Isn't a slap the traditional weapon of a jealous woman?"

"Only if she hasn't been trained to take down criminals twice her size."

"Short jokes. Thanks for helping put me in the right frame of mind," she said wryly. "It's too bad Cho's in with Lorelei; I think he'd like throwing you out of the building."

"Literally, no doubt. Whose day are you going to make, Rigsby's or Van Pelt's?"

"Rigsby's. I'm afraid Van Pelt might really hurt you," she said.

"Ah. Well, comforting to know that's not on the agenda today. I still have enough bruises that you can probably just poke me to make me yell." He sounded hopeful.

She considered her next move just long enough to make him look nervous, then took a swing at him in earnest, pulling her punch at the last second when he was already wincing. She probably wouldn't even bruise him, but the yelp he let out was both satisfying and guilt-inducing. Grabbing his arm, she threw her office door open, noting with grim amusement the way people suddenly scrambled to look busy, and shoved him out into the hallway ahead of her.

"That's it!" she shouted. "I've had it, Jane. Get out!"

"Lisbon," he said in his most condescending tone, "you're being childish—ow!"

That punch had been for real, and he rubbed at his shoulder with a real wince. Lisbon shouted, "Rigsby!"

"Yes, boss?" Rigsby said, springing from his chair as if ejected.

"Escort this sorry excuse for an ex-consultant out of the building. And make sure security knows not to let him back in, no matter what he says or does."

"Sure, boss," Rigsby responded. He reached for Jane's arm to escort him, but Jane skipped out of his reach.

"Lisbon, really," Jane protested. "Don't you think this is an overreaction?"

"It's an under-reaction. Get out of here. Now!" Lisbon growled. Then she stalked back into her office, pulling the door closed hard enough to make the blinds vibrate.

Rigsby gave Jane a push toward the elevators, not gently but not hard enough to knock him off balance. "Stop digging, man," he muttered.

"All right, fine. Call me when you get stuck on a case," Jane called after Lisbon. Then he walked toward the elevators as if leaving had been his idea, Rigsby taking two long strides to catch up.


	2. Chapter 2: Exile

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist.

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much to all of you who reviewed, favorited, etc.-I hope this doesn't disappoint!

**Chapter Two: Exile**

True to his word, he filled up her cell's voicemail before the day was out. When it rang on her way out of the office, she answered it, snapping, "Stop calling me!" to the barely concealed interest of the two other people waiting for the elevator.

"Well, it hardly seems likely that you'll call me instead," he pointed out, sounding amused.

"Because we have nothing to talk about."

"That is not true, and you know it. You have to un—"

She was a little ashamed of herself for how good it felt to punch "end call" while he was in mid-word.

The next day when her cell lit up with his photo, she glanced at her open door to make sure she could be overheard before picking it up. There was no point in staging these little scenes if they couldn't reach their intended audience, after all. "What part of 'Stop calling me' don't you understand, Jane?" she demanded.

"Well," he mused, "I've always had trouble with the word 'stop,' as you may recall."

She pictured a few of the many times she had hissed, "Stop!" while he kept tweaking someone who irked him or goading a suspect into punching him. "Yes, actually, I do," she retorted.

"But I think it's the entire sentence I have trouble processing," he continued. "I spent six months not calling you. Apparently that's the limit of my self-control."

"So for six months I tell you to call me and you don't. Now I tell you to stop calling me, and you won't. I think I see the pattern here. What I should really be doing is begging you to call me," she said, not trying to hide her sarcasm.

"If it helps, I'm sure I find your refusal to answer my calls just as exasperating as you did," he said.

"I doubt it. I'm talking to you now, aren't I? And I haven't destroyed my career and left you thinking I was in deep trouble and sinking fast."

"I am sorry about that." He sounded rueful but quickly recovered his casual tone. "How many times are you going to need me to apologize?"

"I'll let you know when you get there." She hung up and ignored the phone when it immediately started ringing again. It must be driving him crazy never to have the last word, she thought, and looked down to hide the grin that was threatening to appear. Maybe she could have some fun with this stupid plan after all.

The next day, her interview with Lorelei was so infuriating that she couldn't bring herself to pick up the phone, even though as the day wore on his messages sounded less cheeky and more concerned. So she shouldn't have been surprised when her phone rang at 3 a.m., though in her half-awake fog she assumed it was work calling. "Lisbon," she muttered as she brought the phone up to her face, groping for the lamp switch with her other hand.

"I was beginning to worry."

"Dammit," she sighed, blinking at the clock. "I was actually getting some sleep for once."

"Sorry about that. But I was worried."

"You are so full of shit. Why would you be worried?" she demanded.

"You have a very dangerous job."

"It's much less dangerous than it used to be, actually," she retorted. "Now that I don't have someone starting trouble on every single case, I get shot at a lot less."

"I'm glad to hear that. Although I'd be curious to know how many of those cases you are actually closing. No, don't hang up!" he hurried to add.

"Why not?" she asked, laying her head on her pillow again.

"I miss talking to you." His voice dropped into that slow, lazy tone he only used when it was just them, talking about nothing urgent, just two friends relaxing together. She felt herself calm down just hearing it, and then was annoyed that it was still so easy for him to manipulate her.

"You had six months to do something about that. Maybe I don't miss talking to you anymore."

He chuckled softly. "I don't believe that for a moment."

"Of course not. Your ego wouldn't allow it."

"True." He paused, then continued, "Is that the problem? Your ego needs a little feeding too? I did miss you, you know. Every day."

"The difference is, you're the one who left. And without any sign that you ever intended to come back. You left all of us behind like we didn't matter once you weren't chasing Red John anymore."

"That isn't what happened. I thought you might have guessed what I was up to when I had to push Wainwright so hard to get him to fire me."

They were both quiet for a moment, remembering their boss, one more in a long list of victims now. Then she admitted, "I did, sort of. But then when you wouldn't call me back, didn't bring me into your plan, I thought I'd imagined it. It went on so long. I thought if it'd been a plan, you'd give up after a while and come back. But you didn't."

"I did," he protested. "It just took longer than you thought. You never did have any patience." She could hear the grin in his comment, but when he spoke again he was serious. "When's the funeral?"

"Day after tomorrow," she sighed. "I don't think you should come, though."

"Probably not."

Which was not the same as saying he wouldn't, she knew. "No, seriously. People should be able to focus on him, not think about how much they wish it was you in that coffin instead."

He didn't say anything in response, and she worried she'd been too harsh. She was just drawing a breath to take it back when he said, "Fair enough."

"I don't," she said.

"Wish it was me? I know. Your desire for penitence is too strong. Corpses can't grovel."

"Right. Because it couldn't possibly have anything to do with the effort I've put into keeping you alive all these years. Or the fact that we were friends."

His voice was very quiet. "Were?"

She was suddenly worried that the line between their act and reality was blurring and that she might actually hurt him. Though of course he hadn't shown her the same courtesy. "Friends don't abandon each other."

"I didn't abandon you. I just…pretended to."

"Because you didn't trust me to keep up the act?"

"All right, yes. But not because you weren't capable. Because you would have gotten impatient and called the whole thing off too soon. Assuming I could have talked you into it in the first place, which never had a very high probability."

She had to concede that, but a yawn prevented her forming a response.

"Go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you," he said. Then he hung up.

She tossed her phone back onto the nightstand and turned the light back off, feeling that she had more to say but willing to let him have the last word for now. She would get another chance. That comforting thought carried her back into sleep.

Over the next few days, Jane's phone messages started to contain actual content, telling her about the paperwork he claimed would show that he'd been undercover and that he was trying to set up a meeting with the prosecutor in Vegas to "clear all this up." She spent quite a few hours debating what her reaction to this should be. Her instinct was to go help him out of this latest mess, which was really serious, but she was supposed to be mad at him, so should she really be doing him favors?

This role Jane had hastily constructed for her was annoying—she felt like a novice actress whining, "What's my motivation in this scene?" half the time. She wished she could ask him what he really wanted her to do, but short of an in-person meeting there was no safe way. Still, given the outrageous things he had talked her into in the past, it didn't seem realistic for her to hold out much longer.

Out late on a case, she missed a call she would normally have picked up, and he left an uncharacteristically short message. "Don't make me go down to the library and Google you to make sure there's no news story with your name in it. Call me back, for old times' sake if nothing else. You know how I hate all that computer stuff."

She called him back and said skeptically, "You know how to Google things? Really?"

"Really. How else was I supposed to know you were okay after you gave up calling me?" he replied. "I couldn't be sure anybody would contact me if you or the others got hurt."

She could picture him sitting at an ancient terminal in some public library looking for something he didn't want to find. "We would have called you," she said. "Of course, you wouldn't have picked up the phone. So are you telling me that if any of us had landed in the hospital in a way that made the news, you'd have given up your plan and come back?"

"It was a distinct possibility. Sometimes I was almost hoping for an excuse," he admitted.

"You are so full of it. You would have convinced yourself there was nothing you could do and kept right on with your scheme."

"It wasn't rational," he agreed. "There would have been nothing I could do, realistically. A hospital visit or showing up at a funeral wouldn't change anything."

She could picture herself standing at a gravesite, looking in vain for him, and felt a surge of anger. "It would change things for the survivors, maybe."

"If there were any," he said softly. "I kept having the nightmare where there weren't."

She knew which one; he'd told her one very early morning when she'd lectured him about sleeping at the office. The one where he came into the bullpen and found bodies on the floor, smiley face on the wall. Sleeping there at least ensured he'd be spared that. Of course, she'd had a whole series of nightmares about him during his absence, so she felt they were probably even in that department. "Don't worry," she said. "I don't expect you to visit my grave. Or even go to my funeral."

"I don't plan to," he replied, "because you are going to outlive me. And I won't know or care if you visit my grave, though I'm sure you will, at least once. Possibly just to spit on it."

"And have one-sided arguments where I always get the last word," she agreed. "Look, I am not going to feel sorry for you because you get worried. I worried about you all those months, because you made me. I resent that."

"I know. I'm sorry. But would you have worried less if I'd told you the plan?"

"Worried differently, anyway. I damn well would have had somebody keeping an eye on you."

"Which is partly why I didn't tell you."

"Good night, Jane."

"Wait, don't hang up yet. I'm going to Vegas tomorrow to see what I can do about getting the charges dismissed. Come with me."

"I'm in the middle of a case. I can't just drop everything and run off to Vegas on a whim. And what makes you think I'm going to lie for you, anyway?"

"No lying required."

"Right," she scoffed.

His tone was half-wheedling, half-amused. "But I look so much more respectable standing next to you."

"I'm not your prop, or your misdirect," she retorted. "I'm not going. Don't add to your problems by getting a speeding ticket."

She hung up the phone. He was going to have to try harder if he really did need her to go to Vegas, she thought. But the phone didn't ring again that night.

The next evening, after several missed calls with no voicemail, she got a text: _I really hate Vegas._

She texted back: _You deserve each other._

_I hate the long drive alone._

_You better not be texting while driving, or I really will spit on your grave._

She stared at her phone for several minutes, but there was no response. She hoped he was standing at a gas station somewhere smirking at his phone instead of driving in the dark with one hand and only glancing at the road, but she told herself very firmly not to worry about things she couldn't control and went back to her paperwork.

Finding herself awake at 4 a.m. for no good reason, she picked up her phone and dialed his cell. He picked up immediately, wide awake. "What is it?" he asked, sounding worried.

"Since you keep waking me up, I figured what's good for the goose is good for the gander," she replied.

He chuckled. "I reject that analogy, Lisbon. You are not the least bit goose-ish." He paused, then mused, "If you insist on comparing yourself to a bird, it should be a raptor. A hawk maybe, or a falcon. Something fierce and beautiful."

_You think I'm beautiful?_ The thought danced into her mind, all but wearing a frilly pink tutu. She kicked it into the nearest closet and slammed the door before it could get to her mouth. "And deadly."

"That too. I suppose you want to know how it went in Vegas."

"I figured it couldn't have been good, since you didn't immediately call to tell me about it."

"Telling things to your voicemail isn't nearly as much fun. I don't get any reaction," he complained. "Anyway, there's not much to tell. The police chief won't be satisfied unless he gets a chance to yell at someone more important than me."

"I'm so glad I missed that," she said, and meant it. "How'd you get a meeting, anyway?"

"Minelli helped me. He says hello, by the way, and is impressed that you haven't shot me yet. Though he didn't say whether he was impressed by your self-control or my sense of self-preservation."

"You have no sense of self-preservation, as he knows perfectly well." God, she missed Minelli. In fact it was Minelli's departure as much as Bosco's death that had changed her perception of the CBI and begun her gradual shifting of loyalties away from the agency and toward her team alone. Was that why Jane had started confiding his plans to her? She was suddenly struck by the realization that he had probably been able to sense the change even if she wasn't conscious of it. Of course, that led to the troublesome question of what else Jane thought was going on in her head, especially since he had to know she hadn't for a moment believed he didn't remember saying that he loved her. She changed her mind about what it meant almost as often as she let herself think about it, so she was in no way prepared to take the further step of addressing what her own feelings might be about any given explanation.

"True," he said, and she gratefully abandoned her train of thought. "Self isn't what I'm most interested in preserving." He let out a long sigh. "It was so easy in the beginning, so simple: kill Red John. Then it started getting complicated: Kill Red John, but not if it gets Lisbon killed. Then: Kill Red John, but make sure Lisbon stays alive _and_ keeps her job. And on and on. By now I'm so tangled up in caveats that I don't know how I'm going to achieve all my goals."

He sounded plaintive, and she wondered how much of that complaint was sincere. She decided on a sarcastic response. "I'm so sorry my continued existence is interfering with your vengeance."

"Don't be. That was entirely my doing, after all. I didn't set out to care about any of you, but that's how human nature works. Except for sociopaths. Which I am happy I'm not."

"Me too," she said firmly.

"And speaking of the mentally deranged, have you made any progress with Lorelei?"

She grimaced. "Not to speak of. We're still trying to trace her background, but she's obviously had expert help erasing her past."

"I could help, you know."

"Right, like I'm going to let you back in to interview her while you're a wanted felon. Visit your girlfriend on your own time. She'd love to see you."

It came out in a nastier tone than she'd intended, and he paused before responding. "Wow. Jealous much?"

"Oh, go to hell." She hung up, then turned off the lights and lay in the dark, wishing she could turn her brain off.

_This is an act,_ she told herself. _Don't confuse yourself. You are not jealous._

But of course the horrible truth was that she was. Not in the way Lorelei thought, but because she was used to thinking of herself as the one person in all the world Jane trusted and confided in. But Jane had not told her about Lorelei, leaving her to be blindsided when he must have been able to predict that was exactly what would happen. She felt like they had regressed several years and were back to him telling her only what truth he was forced to.

Take this plan, for instance. The more she thought about it, the less she thought it had any merit. Lorelei wasn't going to break, not in any timeframe that was realistic for her to hold a grudge. She was beginning to suspect that Jane had come up with this as a way to duck the worst of her recriminations. Just like he'd given her that measuring look in the warehouse and then flagrantly refused to discuss that "love you." Of course, given how she'd sidled up to the question, she couldn't really blame him for concluding that she wasn't serious about discussing it. Besides the likelihood that an honest answer—whatever the hell that might be—would probably turn out to be a great big emotionally charged distraction just as they were going into a dangerous situation.

Looking back, she couldn't believe she'd thought that was appropriate timing. And now she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to her question at all. Early in their relationship, she'd occasionally been worried that his repertoire of manipulative tactics might include seduction, but she'd soon come to see the flirting and teasing for what it was. Because she quickly realized that he was utterly unavailable, and he knew that she knew, she was his safety valve. He could amuse himself as much as he liked without worrying that she might take him seriously. He had no room in his life for romance—that would be offering up a sacrifice to Red John, as Kristina Frye proved—but it was human nature to want to be close to someone, to feel needed and valued and have private jokes and trust that they would be there for each other. She gave that to him—if she was being honest, they gave it to each other—without the risk of further entanglement.

She pounded her pillow and flipped it over, hoping to get more comfortable and resolving to stop thinking about this. It didn't do any good, she told herself. Better to get some sleep and think about how she wanted to tackle closing this stupid show in the morning. Later in the morning. After sunrise and coffee.


	3. Chapter 3: Suspicion

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist. But my birthday is coming up...

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone for the great feedback and for coming on this wild ride with me. More plot in this chapter, as well as Cho, whom I adore, so I hope I did him justice! I haven't been tracking season 5 spoilers, so I can only assume this will pretty shortly be AU. My goal is to finish it before the premiere and I become disheartened by how much better a job the real writers do. Now if only my brain will stop throwing me plot twists...

**Chapter Three: Suspicion**

Her barely conceived plan to spontaneously forgive her prodigal consultant was foiled almost as soon as she got to the office. The Sacramento County Jail called to tell her that Jane had attempted to see Lorelei, who was forbidden visitors for her own protection. She didn't have to pretend to be angry as she stormed out of the bullpen, leaving the team to exchange meaningful looks, and slammed her office door behind her as she dialed his cell.

"What the hell were you doing trying to see Lorelei?" she shouted into the phone, loud enough to be overheard.

"You said I should visit her on my own time," he pointed out reasonably. "You could have just told me I wouldn't be allowed to and saved me a trip. Not to mention an unpleasant conversation with a sneering guard."

"You stay the hell away from my case," she snarled.

"Or?"

"I'll arrest you."

"For what?"

"I'll think of something!" She hung up, took a few deep breaths, and then went back out to the bullpen. Rigsby, Cho, and Van Pelt were making a show of being busy, and none of them looked up, not wanting to draw her attention when she was in a bad temper. "Where were we?" she asked.

Cho said, "The Mason Graham case. I found his next of kin, a cousin in Visalia."

"Great. You and Rigsby go talk to the cousin. Van Pelt, let's go interview the coworkers."

"Yes, boss," they chorused, grabbing for suit jackets and weapons.

As they made their way to the parking garage, Lisbon realized that none of them ever asked her about Jane or tried to intercede on his behalf, as they had done other times he had gotten into trouble. She worried that he had truly burned some bridges this time. But that was his problem, ultimately; right now she had a murder to solve.

The Graham case absorbed her attention over the next couple of days and kept her too busy to spend as much time with Lorelei. Cho picked up the slack; Lisbon hoped that his deadpan attitude would tempt Lorelei into saying something unwise in an effort to get a reaction out of him. That was, her primary source of amusement in jail, it seemed.

As she and Cho drove away from the squalid apartment of their suspect's girlfriend, Lisbon said, "We're getting nowhere with this. Tell me how it's going with Lorelei."

"Because you want more bad news?" Cho replied. "It's more of the same. She smirks a lot. She accuses you of keeping Jane away from her and says it won't work, that he'll be back. She wants to tell me way more than I ever wanted to know about Jane." He paused. "Although today she did say that it made her sad to think that she'd cost him his only friends."

Lisbon rolled her eyes briefly before returning her attention to the road. "Right."

"That's what I thought." Cho paused, then said, "You have to admit, we'd probably have the case closed by now if he was here."

"Yeah, along with a stack of complaints on my desk a foot high," Lisbon retorted. "I'm enjoying the break."

"No, you're not."

"Excuse me?" She turned to look at him for a second as they pulled up to a stoplight.

"You're not enjoying anything. You're worried. When are you going to tell us what's really going on?"

That was the problem with working with other detectives, Lisbon reflected. It was hard keeping secrets, especially since they expected that kind of thing when Jane was involved. Still, she gave it a try. "Nothing's going on."

"Right." Cho's expression didn't change, but his tone dripped sarcasm.

"It's under control."

"If you say so." He didn't even pretend to be convinced.

"I do say so. I can take care of myself, Cho," she persisted.

"Yes, you can. But when it comes to Jane, sometimes you don't."

She could hardly argue with that. She relented with a sigh. "When I need your help, I'll ask."

"Good." Cho thought for a few moments, then said, "So will it mess up whatever's going on when I take the case file to Jane behind your back?"

"I don't think so." She frowned at him. "Do you go behind my back often?"

"Not as far as you know," he replied calmly. "Anything you want me to pass along?"

Oh, there were so many things she wanted to know. She knew where he was staying, because he'd made a point of telling her. But she didn't know if he was eating or sleeping, if he'd cleaned himself up or was still pretending to wallow in the gutter. If she were really doing all this out of jealous anger or whatever she was supposed to be feeling, wouldn't she still care enough to ask? "Tell him there's no way in hell I'm going to back up his bullshit story with the Vegas PD. And that the only thing I'm interested in hearing from him is an apology."

"See, that's it right there," Cho said. "One or two days of not talking to him, okay. But almost two weeks? And not helping him out of trouble? That's not you. You don't do grudges."

"Crap," she sighed. "Have the others noticed?"

"Van Pelt's still mad herself, so she doesn't question that you are. Rigsby's just waiting for things to blow over as usual."

But Rigsby and Van Pelt weren't the intended audience. How Red John interpreted her behavior, through whatever mole he had watching her, was the question. She really wanted this to be over before she blew it somehow. "You can take him the case file," she said. "He can wrap it all up in a neat little package for us, and then I'll think about talking to him."

"That's better," Cho said. Lisbon couldn't tell from his tone whether he approved, but she spied the hint of an upturn at the corner of his mouth. She was grateful for his calm acceptance of the situation. Cho never took the things Jane did personally—he seemed to take the attitude that Jane was Jane and that was never going to change, so it was useless to get upset about it.

"Make him eat something when you take him the file," Lisbon said.

This time, there was no mistaking the smirk.

Later that afternoon, Lisbon looked up at a knock on her door and was surprised to see Susan Darcy standing there. She could remember when she had liked the FBI agent, but now she was just one more person Jane needed protecting from. "Agent Darcy," she greeted her coolly. At least nobody was likely to get arrested in this encounter, she assured herself.

"Agent Lisbon," Darcy replied, just as coolly. "I don't know if you've heard, but Director Bertram has asked the FBI to take over the investigation into Agent Wainwright's death. If you have a moment, I have some questions for you."

Lisbon was surprised. "Come in," she said. "I'll tell you what I can, but I wasn't even in the state at the time."

"And who can vouch for that? I understand your cell phone was switched off after you left the CBI that night, pretending to be dead." Darcy settled in the visitor's chair and took out a small notebook.

Oh, this was not good. "Yes, it was. I was with Jane the whole time—we drove straight through and then slept a couple hours once we got to the industrial park outside Vegas. Rigsby got there about an hour after we did, and Cho and Van Pelt arrived about noon, after we got Lorelei's call. We were in position by two-thirty."

"And those are the only people aware of your location? Did you stop for gas?"

"Yes, three times. I don't remember where, but Jane will. He paid cash, of course."

"Mm hm." Darcy looked unhappy. "You were being careful not to leave a trail."

"Yes, since we were undercover for all intents and purposes."

"And no one here was aware of your plan?"

"No. We were trying to trap Red John, who has a history of contacts within the CBI. And the FBI," Lisbon added pointedly. "Agent Darcy, why are you investigating us? What possible motive could I, or my team, have for killing Agent Wainwright?"

"It's come to my attention that Patrick Jane is claiming to have been undercover during his time in Las Vegas. He supposedly has papers signed by Wainwright. But what if Wainwright never signed those papers? He would then be standing in the way of Jane's return to the CBI."

Lisbon gaped at Darcy for a moment. "That's insane," she said. "Think about what you're saying. Wainwright was found in the limousine with Lorelei. By accusing us of his murder, you're saying we're in league with Red John, a serial killer we've been trying to catch for years!"

"Yes, so you say. If you've been trying so hard, why haven't you? Because he's always one step ahead. What if the reason is because Jane is in league with him?"

"It's not."

"You sound very sure."

"I've never been more sure of anything. I know Patrick Jane."

"How well can anyone ever know an experienced con man? You can't be sure."

A few years ago, that line might have caused Lisbon a moment's pang, but she shrugged it off immediately. There was way too much history, way too many moments of painful honesty in her history with Jane for her to doubt now. "I am sure. Look. You're free to interview the rest of my team; they'll tell you the same thing about where we were when. It's a good nine-hour drive to Las Vegas, and Wainwright was here the morning after the shooting, so there's no way we had time to double back and kill him, even if we had a more believable motive than that Jane couldn't think of a better way to manage the paperwork!"

Darcy stood. "I'll do that. I'd also like to talk to Jane. Do you know where he's staying?"

"Some motel south of town, I think. His cell number is the same—do you still have it, or do you need me to give it to you?"

"I have it. Thanks for your time, Agent Lisbon. I'll be in touch."

Lisbon stared after Darcy in astonishment. The theory was so outlandish, based on so little and having to stretch so much to fit any evidence, that it was hard to believe the FBI agent had come up with it as the logical conclusion. Unless there was something Lisbon didn't know, some piece of evidence planted as a misdirection. She was suddenly alarmed, and her impulse was to pick up the phone and call Jane. But of course that would just feed Darcy's suspicions. She had to let this play out—to a point. Jane would be in touch as soon as he figured out what was going on, she trusted.

Her cell phone rang, and she looked down to see that it was Jane. He had an uncanny knack for calling just when she was thinking about him, she reflected. But she couldn't warn him about Darcy without feeding into the agent's idiotic conspiracy theory, so she let it go to voicemail.

Darcy interviewed Rigsby and Van Pelt separately. Cho wasn't back yet, and Lisbon promised to have him get in touch when he returned from researching their current case, so Darcy left. "Let's all stay calm," Lisbon said quietly, as they gathered near Van Pelt's desk. She didn't want to take this conversation into her office and make it seem suspicious. "There can't be any evidence to support her suspicions, because we're innocent."

"We can't prove that. We only have each other's testimony," Rigsby said, worried. "The prosecution's bound to say we'd lie for each other."

"We don't have to prove we're innocent. She has to prove we're guilty," Lisbon reminded him. "And you both stopped for gas. Even though you paid cash and were disguising your appearances, there'll most likely be security footage from the gas stations to support your accounts." She was the one in trouble, she realized. She had that huge swath of time when only Jane knew where she was, and she was certain Darcy wouldn't take Jane's word for anything. Not that Lisbon could blame her—Jane would lie through his teeth for a lot less than keeping them both out of jail. "Look, they might just be trying to rattle us. If there were any evidence, we'd be suspended, and we're not."

"Not yet," Van Pelt murmured.

"Stay positive. We have work to do. Van Pelt, did you find anything on Graham's girlfriend?"

"Clean," she replied. "Not even a parking ticket."

"Great. How about the boss?"

Rigsby said, "I'm still trying to track down the janitor he says saw him leaving the lab."

"Good. Stay on that. Let's just do our jobs and keep our noses clean, all right?"

"Yes, boss," they chorused.

Cho was precisely on time, as usual, but Jane was already sitting at the table just inside the door of the little tearoom where they'd agreed to meet, halfway through a cup of tea with a huge smile on his face. "Cho! Have a seat. What can I get you?"

"Do they have coffee?"

Jane grimaced. "If you insist." The server, a young girl who seemed to be enjoying her job today, came promptly at his signal, and a minute later Cho had a steaming, fragrant cup of coffee in front of him. "To what do I owe the honor of this meeting?" Jane continued.

Cho handed him the copy he'd made of the casefile. "Chemical research scientist murdered in his secure lab. Nothing taken that we can find. No personal life to speak of, outside of a girlfriend he mostly seems to have neglected. Cryptic note left at the scene."

"Ah." Jane seemed intrigued as he flipped through the file.

Cho passed the time looking at the menu. Then he signaled the server and ordered two sandwiches.

"Hungry?" Jane asked, amused.

"They're for you. Lisbon said to make sure you ate."

"Ah, so she does care." Jane smirked, then turned serious again. "Have you thought this might be a code based on the periodic table?"

"Yeah, we tried that. Nothing made sense." Cho sipped at his coffee. "We also looked at the competition for the last grant he won. But they've all found alternate funding by now, and none of them seemed to know what the note meant."

Jane peered intently at the photos of the lab. "Any photos of his home?"

"No. Why?"

"I need to see his house."

"I'll see what I can do. Don't break in."

"Don't worry. I'm in enough trouble at the moment."

"Yes, you are."

"So." Jane closed the file and took a sip of his tea. "How are things at CBI these days?"

"Pretty much the same, except with more baby photos." Cho took another sip of coffee. "How are you?"

"Oh, fine, fine. I'm enjoying all the free time to read, and my sock drawer is all re-arranged."

"When are you coming back?"

"Well, there's a slight snag. I need someone to vouch for me, and Lisbon refuses to do it."

"What do you need?"

"An upstanding CBI agent to tell the Las Vegas police chief that I am just crazy enough to embark on a long-term undercover operation without any backup or check-ins, and that once committed to a cover identity, I inhabit it completely."

Cho looked at him for a moment, as if gauging his truthfulness. "I can do that."

"Really? I'm touched, Cho. Aren't you worried about getting into trouble?"

"No. I'm not going to lie for you, but it doesn't sound like I have to. If you really were pulling such a crazy stunt, I wouldn't have known about it. And if the chief doesn't know you, he'll probably buy that you told Wainwright but not Lisbon."

Jane assumed an expression of virtue. "I didn't want to get her into trouble."

Cho nearly choked on his coffee as the server set the two sandwiches on the table. "When do you need me to go to Vegas?"

"I'll set something up and let you know. And thanks."

"Just solve this case. We need the win. And stop being such a pain in the ass-Lisbon has enough problems."

Jane grinned. "A man can't change his nature."

"Maybe not, but he can change his behavior. Here." Cho tossed a twenty on the table. "I gotta run. See you."

Jane got to his feet at the same time and pulled a red delicious apple out of his jacket pocket. "Put this on Lisbon's desk when she's not looking, would you?"

Cho looked at the apple as if it might be a grenade in disguise. "Why?"

"It will make her smile."

Cho sighed and took the apple. "Do you want me to slip her a note when the teacher's not looking, too?"

"Not necessary. Thanks for the new reading material. It was good to see you."

"Enjoy the sandwiches," Cho tossed over his shoulder as he left.

Lisbon returned to the bullpen after an unpleasant meeting with Bertram, surprised to find Cho still gone. "Isn't Cho back yet?" she asked Van Pelt, concerned.

"He was, but when we told him Agent Darcy wanted to see him, he said he'd better get it over with. He didn't think he'd be very long," Van Pelt said.

"Thanks." Lisbon turned and went to her office, sitting down and bringing up her email. A flash of red caught her eye, and she stared for a moment at the apple sitting in the middle of her desk. She smiled, then picked it up and turned it over as if it might contain a hidden message. But of course, the apple itself was the message: a simple "thinking of you." And only one person ever brought her fruit.

She hadn't realized how accustomed she was to the little gifts until they had stopped coming, and this resumption felt almost like a promise. Her hand hovered over her cell phone, and after a moment she typed out a text: _You're going to need more than an apple to get out of this_.

The reply took a few minutes to arrive: _So Susan says. We should talk_.

_Not sure that's a good idea._

_Don't worry._

She stared at the phone incredulously. Don't worry? What a waste of bandwidth that was. She jumped as the phone in her hand rang. "Why would I be worried?" she asked sarcastically.

"I turned my phone on once we got to Vegas, remember?"

"That helps you, but not me."

"Look, Wainwright was at the CBI office until just three hours before Susan arrested you in Vegas. There was no time for anyone to drive him or his body from Sacramento to Las Vegas. It had to be a flight. And you were nowhere near an airport," he pointed out. "However."

"However?"

"You'll accuse me of being paranoid, but what if this isn't merely a case of wrongheaded logic on the FBI's part? It could be an attempt to frame us."

She remembered what he'd said when he explained his take on Red John's plan: that there would be something else coming as part of the attempt to prevent Jane returning to his old life. Sending her to prison for murder would certainly achieve that goal. "That would take some pretty substantial fake evidence."

"Which isn't an insurmountable obstacle for someone with Red John's resources."

"Comforting. What do you suggest I do about it? Any evidence we dig up will be suspect. We have to let the FBI do its job."

He was silent for a moment. "Yes. But if this is what I think it is, you may get a message. Don't do anything hasty."

"Right, because I'm the one with impulse control issues." She let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, I'm going to do my job and stay out of trouble. I suggest you do the same. And that means not looking like we might be involved in any kind of conspiracy."

"Message received," he said, though he didn't sound happy about it. "Go home and sleep the sleep of the innocent, Lisbon."

"You too," she said, and then hung up.


	4. Chapter 4: Warning

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist. No money is changing hands.

**Author's Note:** I'm amazed and inspired by all the encouragement. You guys are the best!

**Chapter Four: Warning**

Lisbon had barely drunk half her cup of coffee the next morning before Darcy entered her office. "I need to interview Lorelei Martins," she said, "but I'm told I need your permission to see her."

"Suspects connected with Red John have a history of dying in custody, so we're taking every precaution," Lisbon said. "I'm happy to take you to see her."

"I need to see her alone. You haven't been excluded from my investigation, Agent Lisbon."

Lisbon folded her arms. "And you haven't been excluded from mine, Agent Darcy. You get me or one of my team as your escort, or you don't see Lorelei. That's the deal."

They stared at each other for a few moments to see who would break first. Then Darcy grimaced. "Very well. I hope now is convenient?"

Lisbon stood and grabbed her jacket. "Yes. I had a visit on my schedule today anyway."

mmm

There wasn't much conversation on the drive to Sacramento County Jail, which came as a relief to Lisbon. Facing Lorelei's smug, oddly serene attitude was best done when not already irritated.

When the three of them were seated in the private interview room, Darcy introduced herself, causing Lorelei to smile. "Agent Darcy. It's good to meet you; I wasn't sure I would. I've heard a lot about you." She cut a look over at Lisbon and added, "Not as much as about Agent Lisbon, of course. But enough to intrigue me."

"Who told you about me?" Darcy asked.

Lorelei's smile grew. "There's only one person whose words I value."

"You mean Red John."

"You call him that, yes. If you're here to learn about him, I'm afraid I have to disappoint you. As Agent Lisbon has learned, my loyalty is unshakeable."

"I'm actually here to ask you how Agent Wainwright came to be in the back seat of the limousine you were in when we arrested you."

"Oh, I'm afraid I can't help you there. He was already in place when the limo picked me up."

"Really." Darcy sounded skeptical. "And what time was that?"

"A quarter to three."

"So he was already dead."

"He wasn't making any noise. That's all I know. I didn't even know who he was at the time." Lorelei's expression changed to sympathy. "Was he a friend of yours?"

"A valued colleague," Darcy replied.

"Then I'm sorry for your loss. Are you a friend of Patrick's?"

Darcy paused, her expression unreadable. "Are you?"

Lorelei chuckled. "Me? I'm more than a friend. Much more."

"So I've heard," Darcy said. "Why do you ask me about Patrick?"

Lorelei nodded in Lisbon's direction. "She won't let him come to see me. I thought you might."

Darcy tilted her head slightly. "I'm sure if Patrick really wanted to see you, he'd find a way to make it happen."

Lisbon was cheered to see a shadow cross Lorelei's face. Darcy pressed on. "Just like I'm sure that if Red John really wanted to save you, he would find a way."

Lorelei regained her smile. "When the time is right, he will."

"But meanwhile, here you are. Was that part of the plan all along, or an accident? Did you know the sacrifice you'd be making?" Darcy asked.

Lorelei's smile took on a tinge of pity. "Love is nothing without sacrifice. If you had ever truly known love, you would know that." Then she looked at Lisbon. "I'm looking forward to finding out what sacrifices you're willing to make, Agent Lisbon."

Lisbon blinked, taken aback and hoping it didn't show. Before she could formulate a response, Lorelei continued, "I would sacrifice everything for my lord and master. But he has assured me I must only wait patiently for the signs he has promised, and then I will be free."

"Such as?" Darcy asked.

"The removal of obstacles from Patrick's path." Lorelei looked at Lisbon again. "Starting with the most significant. How are things, Agent Lisbon? Any troubles, or worries?"

"Nothing important." Lisbon hoped she managed the nonchalance she was aiming for. "Should I be on the lookout for something?"

Lorelei looked amused. "You'll never see it coming. Patrick might. But will he bother to warn you?"

"I'm sure he will," Lisbon replied, on firmer ground now.

"Really? How many times do you think he'll choose you over his quest? But don't worry. When he abandons you, you can find a new home. You'd make a worthy disciple."

Lisbon couldn't help the disgust that twisted her expression, but she seized the opportunity. "Really? To replace you, I guess? I can't help but notice the physical similarities. Are you saying Red John is planning to trade up, from you to me?"

For the first time, a glint of anger pierced Lorelei's calm demeanor. "Never!"

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not interested," Lisbon assured her, infusing her voice with sympathy. "You don't need to worry that I'd take him away from you. Like I have Jane."

Lorelei frowned in irritation, but quickly recovered. "That is only temporary, I promise you. Enjoy your moment of triumph, Agent Lisbon. It's all you'll get."

There was a momentary silence, and then Darcy said, "Back to Agent Wainwright. So you're saying you don't know who killed him?"

Lorelei shrugged. "I thought it was one of the people shooting at us."

"The autopsy says otherwise. He was dead probably an hour before that. There was a strong sedative in his system, and he doesn't show any of the cutting patterns associated with Red John. So we naturally thought it must be someone else, someone who doesn't enjoy killing as much."

"It could be. Like I said, he came with the car."

They questioned Lorelei for nearly an hour after that, but she stuck to her story. As she was leaving, she smiled at Lisbon again and said, "Tell Patrick I'm looking forward to seeing him. I'll have something to tell him soon."

When they were alone, Darcy said, "I can see why you haven't gotten anywhere with her."

"Red John wouldn't have let us have her if she was easy to break," Lisbon agreed. "I'm sorry this doesn't shed more light on Wainwright's murder."

"We're working several angles," Darcy said. "I hope you don't have any plans to leave town, Agent Lisbon."

Lisbon scowled at her as they left the room. "No, Agent Darcy. And I hope you'll stay in touch."

"Don't worry. I plan to."

mmm

The rest of the day passed slowly. Lisbon wished she had a way to find out more about Darcy's investigation, but since she and the rest of the unit were, absurdly, suspects, no information was forthcoming. She hoped fervently that enough evidence would turn up to exonerate the others, at least. If this really was a frame aimed at her, she hoped her team would escape becoming collateral damage.

She also spent way too much time pondering Lorelei's oblique hints about sacrifice and abandonment. That seemed to support the frame-up theory, but Lisbon was encouraged by the thought that she was ahead of Lorelei on one count: Jane had warned her right at the start that something like this might happen. And she believed him when he said he'd only pretended to abandon her. She didn't think he'd do it for real, although she wouldn't put it past him to stage something again if he felt it necessary. God help him if he ever did have a real breakdown, she thought; she would never buy that a second time.

Her cell phone caught her attention, and she looked down to find a text from Jane: _I have something to show you. Secret meeting, the usual place. Fifteen minutes._

She was irritated at his cavalier disregard for her schedule, but it sounded important. If it wasn't, she thought as she organized herself to leave the office, she would just punch him again.

"Guys," she said, stepping into the bullpen, "I have to run out for a few minutes. I won't be long."

"We'll cover for you, boss," Rigsby said.

They watched as she left, exchanging glances. Rigsby leaned forward and whispered to Cho, "Jane?"

"No comment," Cho replied, not lifting his eyes from his paperwork.

Rigsby looked over at Van Pelt, who lifted a shoulder in a "what can we do?" shrug. He sighed and went back to his computer screen.

mmm

O'Malley's was far enough from the capitol complex that it wasn't frequented by many state workers, and it was noisy enough that a quiet conversation could remain private. Lisbon hadn't been there in more than six months, since no secret meetings had been required during Jane's absence, but she had no trouble navigating her way through the early happy hour crowd to their usual corner. Instead of a table, Jane was sitting in a booth. He grinned when he saw her, gesturing for her to sit beside him. She frowned questioningly at him but slid onto the bench seat.

"What's this about?" she asked.

He scooted a glass of water over to her. "I was going to order you a beer, but I thought you'd probably go back to the office."

"Right." She noticed that he had an empty shot glass in front of him and frowned again. It wasn't like Jane to drink unless it was part of a plan somehow. She'd hoped he had been able to shed any bad habits he'd picked up in Las Vegas, but maybe he hadn't.

"Oh, stop worrying," he said. "I improved my alcohol tolerance considerably while pretending to become an alcoholic."

"Alcoholics always think they can handle it," she shot back.

He looked surprised for a second before realization settled over him. "Sorry. Your expertise in the subject slipped my mind for a moment." He reached for the second glass of water. "No more drinking during secret meetings. Noted."

"Good. Care to enlighten me about the reason for this one?"

He handed her his cell, and she saw it was displaying a text: _See how easy it would be? I don't think she'd do well in prison, do you?_

"So this is still aimed at you, not me," she mused.

"You have faith in the justice system; he probably knows you'd take your chances in court rather than cut any kind of deal with him," Jane agreed. "So he's trying to throw me off balance by making me think about how easily he could destroy not just your career, but your life."

Lisbon thought for a few moments. "So he doesn't want to kill me, but he doesn't think he can make me walk away, and this is his compromise: forcibly remove me from the CBI."

"Right. No chance of resuming my old life with you in prison. Not to mention the crushing guilt. Because he's right, you know: you wouldn't do well in prison."

Prison meant being trapped in a box with no control over even the smallest details of her life, like what to wear or eat. No, she wouldn't do well, she knew. "Unlike you."

"Oh, I always knew I could get out. One way or the other." He sighed, then murmured, "I'd get you out, Lisbon. You're not going to spend your life in prison. I promise you that."

"I'm not worried," she replied, but she could see from his expression that she hadn't been convincing.

He took a sip of water, then looked straight ahead. "If at any time it gets to be too much, just tell me. We can stop this."

"How? I'm not leaving you out in the cold, Jane."

"I could give up for real."

"He'll never buy it a second time, and you know it."

"If I really vanished, if I—"

"Stop it!" she hissed. "We are not letting him run our lives. Not now, not ever. And this is not your fault, so stop trying to martyr yourself!"

He looked at her again. "How is this not my fault? He's playing games with your life to manipulate me!"

"Jane, I was on the Red John case before I met you. Even if we'd never met, I'd still be on it. He'd be playing games with somebody else, but I'd still be involved. Stop with the guilt. I might be in real trouble here. I need you not to be distracted."

"Oh, believe me, I'm not," he murmured into his glass.

Lisbon thought for a minute, then said, "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"CBI. We're going to try to trace that text message," she said, getting to her feet.

He didn't move. "It's pointless. It'll be from a burn phone, or worse yet, from someone who's meant to distract us."

"We still have to try. Come on." She tugged on his shoulder, and he let out an annoyed huff as he slid out of the booth and tossed some cash on the table.

"Does this mean you're lifting the ban on my entering the building?" he asked hopefully.

"Temporarily," she said over her shoulder on her way to the door. She didn't catch his expression, but she could practically feel the grin from a foot behind her.

mmm

As they walked into the bullpen, Lisbon noticed that her team looked only mildly surprised. Before they could say anything, she handed Jane's cell to Van Pelt. "We need to trace this text."

Van Pelt read it and looked up at Lisbon in concern. "Boss," she said softly.

Jane backed out of the way to avoid being trampled as Rigsby and Cho moved to read over Van Pelt's shoulder. Lisbon said, "Let's all stay calm. Red John is just yanking our chain."

Cho said, "You need protection."

"No, I don't. Red John doesn't want to kill me."

"How do you know?" Rigsby asked.

Lisbon looked over at Jane, who said, "It's too easy. And it gets him no leverage. He wants to dangle a solution in front of us so he can manipulate us."

Cho folded his arms. "We can't know that for sure."

"Look," Lisbon said, "if he wanted to kill me, he'd do it. I don't think we'd get a warning. Jane's right; he's trying to manipulate us."

Cho said, "Red John doesn't care about us. He's trying to manipulate Jane. As usual."

"And while he's doing that," Lisbon said, "he might leave an opening for us to track him. This was all planned in advance; Lorelei told me so today."

"What did she say?" Jane demanded, stepping closer to the group again. "Exact words."

Lisbon grimaced and said, "She's waiting for the signs Red John promised her. The signs will be the removal of obstacles from your path, starting with the biggest one, which she implied was me. She also said she's looking forward to seeing what sacrifices I'm willing to make."

Rigsby muttered sarcastically, "Nothing sinister about that."

"Lisbon," Jane said urgently, "I need to see her."

"No. Darcy and I made some progress today; I don't want to distract her. I'm holding on to you as a bargaining chip. She said she'd have something to tell you soon. I'm going to make her give me something in return for being able to deliver that message."

Jane scowled. "It's probably Red John's list of absurd demands, things he wants me to do to keep you out of prison."

"Maybe," Lisbon said. "But think about it. The frame-up is shaky at best. The timing doesn't work at all, for one thing. And there's no motive that any good defense lawyer couldn't demolish in five minutes. Maybe he's just doing this to make a point, and once that's done, whatever's sent the FBI so far off track will go away."

Jane said, "I hope not." When they all turned to look at him, he continued, "Because that means there's something else coming. Something worse."

Nobody had a response to that. Van Pelt began typing away on her computer, trying to trace the text. Jane shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and wandered toward his couch.

"Jane," Lisbon said sharply. "It's not nap time yet. Cho, any progress on the Graham case?"

"I was heading over to his house to take another look," Cho said.

"What for?" she asked.

"I'll know it when I see it," Cho replied. "Can I take Jane?"

"No. He's not working for us at the moment, officially. There's a mess in Vegas he needs to clean up first. And I'm not sure reinstating him won't look suspicious to the FBI, which is the last thing any of us needs right now. Take Rigsby if you want a second set of eyes."

Van Pelt said, "The account the text was from is closed. Must be a burn phone. I'll try to figure out if I can tie the account to a name or at least a location."

"Pointless. Red John isn't that sloppy," Jane said.

Van Pelt said, "If we assume he never makes mistakes and stop checking, we won't notice when he does make one. And nobody's perfect."

"Exactly," Lisbon agreed. "Keep at it. Jane, my office."

He followed her in silence and went to sit on the couch, apparently deep in thought. Lisbon hesitated for a moment, then went to sit in a nearby chair. "I think it's obvious we're not fooling Red John. How close are you to resolving those charges?"

"Close."

"I can help."

"No. Not while you're under suspicion. Don't worry, I have a plan."

Lisbon gave a little laugh. "Jane, those two things are mutually exclusive. I always worry when you have a plan. Now is not the time for one of your cunning and brilliant ruses that blow up in my face."

He looked at her sharply. "Don't you think I know that?"

Lisbon was taken aback; he rarely snapped at her. She folded her arms and said, "I want to get a couple of things straight. One: you do not make decisions about my life. Two: you do not make deals with Red John without telling me first. Are you clear on that?"

"You've made it clear I don't work for you, so I'm a little vague on what my incentive is to agree to those terms."

"If you ever want to come back to work here, you will," she retorted.

"I can't make blanket promises without knowing what the circumstances will be," he pointed out. "I'd rather not make you any promises I'm likely to have to break."

"Fine, then I'll simplify. We are in this together. You do not go off on your own. If humanly possible, you discuss any deals or decisions with me before you make them."

He sighed. "All right. If humanly possible, I'll clear my moves with you first. And no running off on my own."

"Promise me," she persisted.

He gave another dramatic sigh. "I promise."

"Thank you." Lisbon relaxed a little, then got up and went to her desk. "If you want, you can take a nap while we wait for Van Pelt to find something."

"Thanks." He arranged himself so he could lie on the couch facing her.

After a moment, she glanced up to find his eyes not quite closed. They looked at each other for a while, simply enjoying each other's company. Then Lisbon said softly, "The drinking has to stop, Jane. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Lisbon," he yawned. "I promise that too." Then he closed his eyes, and a few minutes later she noticed that his breathing had changed. He really had fallen asleep.

She smiled down at her paperwork and shook her head. Normal was nice, even if it was only temporary.


	5. Chapter 5: Understanding

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist, alas.

**Author's Note:** This is a lighter interlude, because I could use one. For those of you concerned about where this is going, I can only assure you that I intend to return these characters to their rightful owner in the same shape that I borrowed them in. More or less. :)

**Chapter Five: Understanding**

The next two days passed without anything unusual happening, at least until Wednesday evening when Cho stuck his head into Lisbon's office. "Hey, boss. I need to take a personal day tomorrow."

Lisbon was surprised; this was a rare request. "Okay. You certainly have enough time accrued. Is everything all right? Anything I should be worried about?"

"Nothing to worry about," he assured her. "Just something to take care of. Thanks. See you Friday."

She wasn't overly surprised by how her Thursday went, or that she had to work late to make up for time spent placating people over the phone. The figure hanging out on her doorstep when she got home wasn't a surprise either. "Well. Look what the cat dragged in," she called, as soon as she was close enough not to have to shout.

Jane grinned. "You don't have a cat."

"How do you know?" He'd been away a long time, after all. She could be leading an entirely different life now. She wasn't, but that was beside the point.

"No hair on your clothes," he replied immediately.

"Why are you here, Jane? I've had a long day and I'm tired." She folded her arms and stood between him and the door.

"Tea and conversation, of course. Once you invite me in."

"And I should do that because?"

He bent down a little so they were at eye level and said in his best persuasive voice, "Come on. You know you want to."

She turned and unlocked her door without responding, and he followed her in. She went straight to the kitchen to put the kettle on—a Christmas present from Jane that the rest of the team had immediately voted The Most Self-Serving Gift Ever Given. Jane, meanwhile, fiddled with her stereo until a bluesy jazz piece floated through the apartment. Then he wandered over to her table, scanning around him for changes since his last visit, and took a seat.

"Did you enjoy your road trip?" she asked.

He grinned. "How did you know?"

"Oh please. Like Cho takes time off. Plus, Chief Wagner called to lecture me about undercover operations in his jurisdiction without notification and give me his personal opinion of you. And to let me know that you are banned from Las Vegas for the rest of your life. If he had his way, you'd never set foot in Nevada again."

"I'm happy to oblige him," Jane said.

"He made me promise to keep you on a tight leash and remind you frequently that your employment as a public servant is partly reparation for your many crimes. Although you apparently managed a sincere apology to the cop you assaulted. I do regret missing that. I don't suppose Cho got video on his phone?"

"You should send Cho in to take the heat every time I make trouble in someone else's town. He's impervious to condescension, sarcasm, and outright yelling."

"Right. Because I'm sure that's what he envisions for his career. So what did you two talk about all that time?" It was a long drive. She was somewhat surprised that nobody had gotten shoved out of the car in the middle of a desolate stretch of road.

"We had a stirring conversation about grammar," Jane said as the kettle began to whistle.

"Grammar?" Lisbon glanced over her shoulder at him as she grabbed mugs out of the cupboard and poured hot water into them.

"The use of the conditional tense versus the future tense, and what the choice indicates about the speaker's intent." Jane accepted the mug she gave him and began dunking his tea bag.

"Generally, or was there a specific sentence under review?" She sat down and did the same.

"Red John's text. We both agree that his use of the conditional indicates that his threat of framing you is a misdirect, meant to distract us from his real plan. That naturally led to a very intriguing discussion of how someone would go about framing you given such a tight timeframe, how they would fabricate the evidence, and how, hypothetically speaking of course, one would go about fabricating evidence that corroborates your story instead."

"So you two have it all figured out now."

"Not all. The identity or identities of the killer and the person who planted whatever trail led the FBI to you remain unknown. Cho favors the FBI agent who was seen speaking with Wainwright immediately before his departure from the CBI, which is logical enough, I suppose." He grimaced into his tea.

"But you disagree. Too easy?" she asked.

"Too disturbing. If Agent Darcy is a Red John mole, she has fooled me the entire time. Which makes her the most talented liar I've ever met. And I've met some."

Lisbon thought about it. "I don't want to believe it either," she said finally, "but it's possible. I always thought the idea that you were a Red John disciple was the most insane theory any FBI agent ever came up with. But it makes sense if she was disguising her involvement by throwing suspicion on you."

"Like O'Loughlin did with Hightower, yes," Jane agreed. "At any rate, the killer had to transport Wainwright or his body by air, and there are only so many ways to do that in the relevant timeframe. Agent Darcy's chartered flight is one way. Cho's looking into it."

"He can't do that while we're under suspicion—"

"Cho and Grace were excluded two days ago," Jane said. "They both turned on their cell phones to check messages before they crossed the Nevada state line. And Cho's buddy who has a friend at the FBI says there's gas station footage of Rigsby. He was wearing his cap pulled down so you can't see his face, but the combination of his height and the car he was driving puts us well into reasonable doubt territory."

Lisbon let out a sigh of relief. "So it's just me in trouble."

"Us," he corrected. "I admit to being intrigued as to how this will get played, but I'm betting I get fingered for the murder and you as an accessory, having both failed to stop me and then helped me cover it up. It's just too unbelievable that you'd kill Wainwright. You had a good relationship with him, and no motive. Whereas I'm well known as unpredictable and cold-hearted, and I've already killed one man. Well, two if you count Tanner, but that wasn't premeditated."

Lisbon remembered how shocked they'd both been. No, it hadn't been premeditated. If Jane had had time to think, he would have distracted Tanner long enough for her to draw her gun. Grabbing the rifle instead had been instinct, pure and simple. In a way, that act was the single most loving thing anyone had done for her in years. Which said something about her life she didn't care to analyze.

Jane frowned at her. "You're blushing. What brought that on?"

"You can't tell?" she retorted, before realizing that she probably shouldn't give him license to speculate. "I've always wondered: what were you thinking when you picked up the rifle?"

He shifted his gaze away from her face and focused on something behind her. "No thought was involved. If I'd taken the time to think, I would have aimed for his leg. Or even fired into the air to get him to look in my direction and give you time to draw your weapon. Something that would have left him alive for us to question." He looked down at his tea and added, "But all I could see was five seconds into the future where you were lying on the ground bleeding to death. It impaired my thought process a bit." He took a long sip.

"I can't say I'm sorry," Lisbon said after a moment.

"I would hope not," he replied, losing his pensive tone. "Or I'd call you a terrible hypocrite, after the lecture you gave me about how staying alive was more important than catching Red John."

"I don't think I put it exactly that way," she chided.

"Meh. Close enough. I realize you were speaking about me, but I always assumed it went for you too. Although perhaps I shouldn't have, given the risks you sometimes take."

Lisbon, in the middle of a sip, sputtered. "_You're_ going to lecture _me_ about risks?" she exclaimed.

"Lisbon, you let me fire a loaded gun at you. I call that risky."

Of course it was. And they'd both known it. She'd never seen him so unnerved. It was no wonder, really, that he'd blurted out something he wasn't prepared to own.

"Ah," Jane said, looking at her with something like horrified realization. He set his mug down on the table. "You're stuck on the fact that I said I loved you."

She was surprised; she'd expected them to skate past that part of the memory. "It's more the fact that you later claimed not to remember it," she said.

He let out a long sigh. "Now that I'm coming back to work, I suppose we should get this out of the way. Lisbon, it can't possibly come as a shock that I care about you."

"No," she agreed cautiously. She was tempted to add something snarky about it being her call whether he came back to work, but she was too curious to see where this was going. "That's not a secret."

"Not even to Red John, lamentably," he said. He tapped a finger on the table while he composed his thoughts. "It's always a mistake to bring emotions into a critical play. But holding a weapon with the intent to fire it at you was one of the single most terrifying things I've ever done. One of the keys to success is to never let yourself be distracted by the worst case scenario, but I couldn't seem to help myself. And it just seemed to me that I'd never expressed my gratitude for everything you've done for me, all the times you've stood by me when anyone else would have thrown me to the wolves."

She wasn't sure she believed that was the entire truth. "So why didn't you just say 'thank you' instead?"

He scowled, irritated. "I didn't plan to say anything beyond the 'good luck' part. And I'm not used to just blurting things out, as you know. So when you asked me to explain it, I deflected. I thought we could just forget about it and go on as before. For me it was just a statement of how things are, Lisbon. It wasn't meant to change anything, and it wasn't meant to start you analyzing our relationship." He said the last three words as if they were in air quotes.

"I spend a lot less time thinking about you than you think," she retorted. How dare he accuse her of analyzing when he was the one who'd brought it up? And why was she so irritated? This felt like the time her college roommate's cute friend had earnestly explained to her that he really liked her but didn't think they should date. She should be relieved to have things cleared up in such an uncomplicated way, she told herself firmly.

He smiled at her maddeningly and picked up his mug again. "Whereas I spend a lot more time thinking about you than you think," he teased.

"Yeah, about how you can convince me to go along with your latest bit of finely calculated insanity."

"Among other things, yes." He drained his mug and stood. "You'll clear things with Human Resources? When shall I report back to work?"

"I'll let you know. Bertram's probably going to want to talk to you, to make sure you're not a risk to the bureau. Or his reputation."

Jane grinned. "I look forward to it."

They walked to the door, and Jane opened it, then paused. He frowned and began, "We, ah..." Then he stopped, pulling his keys out of his pocket and thumbing through them, staring at them as if they were a puzzle he had to solve. "We should..."

Lisbon stared in fascination. Tongue-tied Jane? What was next, the Loch Ness Monster in her bathtub?

Jane took a deep breath and said quickly, "We should talk about this again after Red John is dead. If you still want to."

He finally glanced at her. She wasn't sure what he read in her face beyond shock, but whatever it was made him smile—a gentle, genuine smile that lacked the arrogance of his grin. "Good night," he added softly, and then he was gone, leaving Lisbon to stare at the closed door with what she feared was a big, goofy smile of her own.

**A/N: Okay, that either made you happy or unhappy. Feel free to tell me all about it!**


	6. Chapter 6: Surprise

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist.

**Author's Note:** This is going somewhere, I promise. I seem to be on a winding country road instead of an interstate, but hey, it's a beautiful time of year. Thanks for sticking with me!

**Chapter Six: Surprise**

Lisbon's unusually cheerful mood the next morning was long gone by the time anyone else arrived at the office, which was probably a good thing, although she could have done without the news of another audit. Still, she smiled at Cho when he stopped in to say good morning.

"So how was the road trip? Everybody lived, I take it," she asked.

"We flew. First class," he replied, sitting down in one of the chairs facing her desk. "Only way to go."

"Really?" She wondered why Jane hadn't mentioned it, but then, he omitted salient details all the time.

"I didn't ask how he paid for it," Cho admitted. "But it's all straightened out now, as long as he never goes back there."

"I know. I talked to Chief Wagner after the two of you had left. Apparently you're not very satisfying to yell at. Which Jane finds admirable, by the way. He suggested that I put you on permanent cleanup detail."

"Only if you want to find him mysteriously dead one day," Cho replied immediately. "So when is he coming back?"

"I'll put in the paperwork with Human Resources today, but you know how they are. Next week sometime, I hope. It's just as well; I got the word we're being audited again. At least it should be easier this time with no misappropriated evidence or pile of complaints to explain."

"Except the dead body we used to prop up our story," Cho pointed out.

"Gee, that makes me feel so much better. Thanks."

Cho stood up and said, "Any progress on the Graham case while I was out?"

"None. We found the janitor, and he corroborated the boss' alibi. We're still working through the list of former lab assistants; check with Rigsby and see where he and Van Pelt left off last night."

"Will do."

mmmm

Lisbon spent the part of her weekend when she wasn't working thinking about how to leverage Jane's return to get Lorelei to give up information about Red John. The rest of her thinking time was taken up with reviewing Jane's good-bye statement and ping-ponging between a giddy astonishment and gnawing anxiety. She was certain he wouldn't say something like that to mess with her, but she wasn't sure how accurate his assessment of his own emotional state might be. He was damaged, and they both knew it.

Still, she was thrilled by the fact that he thought there might be an "after" in which they were both alive, not in jail, and still speaking to each other. If someone had asked her four years ago, she'd have said that Jane had no particular plan or desire to survive his revenge. Even after he'd managed to get away with killing Timothy Carter—in that all-too-short time between his verdict being read and his confession that he hadn't killed Red John—she'd had doubts about how he would adjust. And at first she'd thought she was right, that Jane had come up with his impostor theory because he couldn't cope with the end of his quest.

But apparently somewhere along the way he'd given a few moments' thought to what a life after Red John might look like, and he'd included her in that vision. He was frequently not where she thought he was, either mentally or physically, but this was the first time she could remember the truth turning out to be better than her assumption.

So on Monday morning she set out to face Lorelei feeling that, for the first time, she might have the upper hand. She was much less bothered by Jane's concealment of his one-night stand now that she had some clarity as to his feelings. As she and Cho drove to the jail, she brought him up to speed on her plan of attack.

"Jane says that Red John assumes I've stuck by him because I'm in love with him," she explained. "So Lorelei thinks this is a competition. I need to make her think she's losing."

Cho considered for a few moments. "Okay."

"I just don't want you to take anything I say in there seriously," Lisbon said.

"Understood. It's a Jane plan; I won't believe a word of it."

"Good."

They pulled into a parking space, but Cho turned to her before she could take off her seatbelt. "Does it ever bother you," he said slowly, "how much Jane and Red John have studied each other? If they can predict each other's moves so well, how can Jane ever hope to catch him?"

"Red John makes mistakes. We'll catch him." It came out of her almost by rote, like the Ave Maria. And it was probably just as much a matter of faith, she thought wryly.

"Jane makes mistakes too. So, what, the plan is to hope he makes fewer mistakes than the serial killer? What kind of plan is that?"

"What are you suggesting we do?" Lisbon frowned. Cho was making sense, but she honestly didn't know what the alternative was.

Cho shook his head. "I don't have a suggestion yet. I just wonder why we keep doing the same things if they're not working."

Lisbon grinned suddenly. "Maybe we should have a Boxing Day and all switch roles. I could be Jane and he could be me."

Cho took off his seatbelt and threw his door open. "No way I'm calling him 'boss,'" he said.

mmm

Lorelei was wearing her usual smile when she came into the interview room. "I was hoping you'd come today," she said to Lisbon. "I have news for Patrick. When can I see him?"

"He'll be back at work in a few days," Lisbon said. "So after that you can see him anytime I decide to let you. But I'm not going to do that unless you earn it."

"Time is not on your side, Agent Lisbon," Lorelei said.

"You're not going anywhere," Lisbon replied confidently. "And any hope you had that Jane would visit you behind my back is gone now that he's coming back to work. He'll have to behave for a while, and he knows it. And you know what? I don't think he wants to. He's only asked me about you once, and when I told him you were still off-limits, he didn't try again."

"As you said," Lorelei smiled, "he knows he has to behave, at least for a little while, to get his job back. But your hold on him won't last much longer."

"What makes you think so?" Lisbon asked, genuinely curious. "We've been together for ten years now. You knew him for a few days. He never even bothered to lie and say he loved you, did he? What kind of hold can you possibly have over him? He's only interested in you as part of our investigation."

"Perhaps. But I am Patrick's path to redemption, and once he realizes that, you won't be able to influence him anymore."

Cho asked, "How are you his path to redemption? You can't even talk to him."

Lorelei ignored him, focused on Lisbon. "After all, you were only ever a tool he was using to accomplish his goal. When he pushes you aside, you will only have yourself to blame for your broken heart."

"Like you, when you realize that Red John has abandoned you?" Lisbon asked. "It seems to me you're the one who's going to end up with a broken heart, Lorelei. You never had a chance with Jane, and now you see that Red John has used you in his twisted game, that he never really cared about you."

Lorelei shook her head, giving a short laugh. "I was honored to be chosen for this role. How many people ever have the chance to do something truly significant, something extraordinary, with their lives? I am giving the man I love something he truly desires by rescuing someone he cares about from his mundane, meaningless life."

Cho said skeptically, "So you're rescuing Jane. While you're in prison. Who's going to rescue you?"

Lorelei turned a pitying look on him. "I don't expect you to understand this, Agent Cho. You're blinded by these constructs of right and wrong that are imposed on us when we're young. And you are not interested in enlightenment."

"Not if it means talking like some stoned-out guru, I'm not," he replied. "So let me get this straight. Red John sent you to bring Jane into your crazy little cult or whatever it is. Somehow you're supposed to convince him to forget all about avenging the brutal murder of his wife and child, which is pretty much all he's thought about for over a decade. So what's your superpower? Because I'm not seeing it."

"It's not a superpower. It's the most natural thing in the world," Lorelei said softly. She gave him a beaming smile, then turned her gaze to Lisbon. "I'm carrying Patrick's child."

There was a moment of silence. Cho glanced quickly at Lisbon to see if she was going to respond; when she showed no sign of it, he said, "So you're saying Jane knocked you up? And we're supposed to believe that? It was one night not even a month ago. How would you even know?"

"A woman knows her own body. And I chose my timing carefully. You see, Agent Cho, I am only the path to Patrick's redemption. My child is his savior."

Lisbon's hand went to her cross of its own will. "So that's your plan? You think he'll drop everything because you say you're pregnant?"

"Part of the plan," Lorelei corrected. "You will let me tell him in person, won't you? I can't wait to see his face."

Lisbon said, "The deal still stands, Lorelei. You tell me something about Red John, and then I'll decide whether you can see Jane."

"But I have told you something about him. Don't you see how generous he is? Giving Patrick a child to replace the one he lost. It's a beautiful gift."

"A gift with strings attached," Cho noted.

"Still a gift," Lorelei said. "How many men would do that for someone who has been trying to kill them all these years? Don't you see how wonderful it is?"

Lisbon couldn't take it anymore. She got up and left the room without saying a word, motioning for the guards to go in and get Lorelei. Then she walked down the hallway and around the corner to wait for Cho. He joined her a minute later, glancing at her face and deciding not to speak.

When they were safely outside in the parking lot, she said, "Do you think she's lying?"

"I think she's batshit crazy. That makes it hard to tell. And just because she believes what she's saying doesn't make it true." Cho paused while they got into the car, then asked, "Are you going to tell him?"

Lisbon grimaced. "No," she decided. "Not without some kind of confirmation that she's at least pregnant."

Cho was quiet as Lisbon pulled out of the parking lot. "You really think he's not going to take one look at us and realize something's up?"

"You have the best poker face of anyone I know," Lisbon remarked.

"Except Jane," Cho replied. "And what about you?"

"I can lie to Jane when I need to," she said, a little defensively. "And I'll throw the Graham case at him and dare him to solve it. That ought to keep him busy for a while."

Cho folded his arms and looked out the window. "If it's true, there's no telling what he'll do."

"That's why we're not telling him yet." That, and because she would need time to figure out how. She couldn't let him be blindsided with it in an interview room with no privacy—this was way too serious for petty payback. But she couldn't imagine how she would even bring it up.

"Or anyone else," Cho said. "He'd get it off Rigsby in ten seconds."

Lisbon groaned. "You're right. This has to stay between us until we can figure out what's really going on. No talking about it in the office."

"Agreed."

_God,_ Lisbon thought, _it's going to be a long week_.


	7. Chapter 7: Secrets

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all of you who've been so encouraging! You really make it a pleasure to post!

**Chapter Seven: Secrets**

Jane came back to work on Thursday, seeming delighted to be there. He didn't stop grinning all morning, and Lisbon thought if he had a tail, he'd be wagging it. In fact, he reminded her of a big golden lab home from the kennel, bounding around to greet everyone, heedless of whether they were happy to see him or not. He was overjoyed to find his teacup and saucer still in the cupboard and made a production out of his reunion with his couch. Lisbon let him savor the moment; as long as he wasn't causing trouble or looking for secrets, she was happy.

But when he came into her office and showed signs of settling in, she took action. "Here," she said, handing him the Graham file. "I've got this audit to worry about. Go solve this so I can cross it off my list."

"Wasting no time, I see," he said, taking the file and setting his teacup down on her desk.

"Why waste time?" she asked. "Besides, you need to prove you haven't lost your touch."

He looked offended. "Lisbon! Of course I haven't lost my touch."

"Tell that to your colleagues. There's a pool. We've been stuck on the Graham case for better than a week now; go dazzle us with your brilliant deductions and make me a rich woman."

He grinned. "Glad to hear you didn't bet against me."

She shook her head. "Never. Now shoo. I have work to do, and so do you."

That kept him occupied for the rest of the day and the next, while Lisbon tried to get confirmation of Lorelei's pregnancy. The medical staff at the jail didn't see any reason for urgency, apparently, and she was beginning to wonder what she was going to do when Jane finished the Graham case. From the way he was keeping Rigsby and Van Pelt busy, she expected it wasn't going to take long.

Sure enough, on Friday evening he strode into her office and said, "Come on, Lisbon. I've solved the Graham case."

"Then arrest the guilty party, assuming you have actual evidence, and bring him in," Lisbon said, going back to her paperwork.

"Now where's the fun in that?" he asked. "Come on. You'll enjoy this."

"Jane, has the massive stack of paper on my desk somehow escaped your keen powers of observation?" she retorted.

"Not at all. In fact, it merely serves to bolster my argument. You'll ruin your posture sitting at your desk all day. You don't want to get all bent and hunched over before your time, do you?" he grinned.

Lisbon swiftly balled up a piece of note paper and threw it at him. He ducked it easily. "The quicker you cooperate, the faster this will go," he said in a sing-song voice.

"Jane, I mean it. I don't have time for your theatrics right now. Next time, okay? For now, can you please just close the case, preferably without adding to my paperwork?" Despite her best effort, a note of pleading crept into her tone.

Jane frowned at her. "You skipped lunch, didn't you?" he accused. When her only answer was a shrug, he gave a long-suffering sigh. "All right. It's your loss, though!"

_That was a mistake_, she thought as she watched him go. The last thing she should do is avoid him; there was no quicker way to make him suspicious. Well, she would make up for it later.

mmm

"Lisbon!"

She frowned, raising her head and wondering why her neck hurt. "Coffee," she said, blinking and trying to focus. Damn. She'd fallen asleep on her desk. The delicious coffee smell was coming from a cup in Jane's hand. She reached for it, and he handed it over.

"Decaf," he said. "Here. Eat this, and the sugar will keep you awake enough to drive home." He handed her a large, gooey pastry covered in icing that probably represented enough calories for several days. She was so hungry she didn't care.

Jane made a disapproving noise and reached out to remove a post-it note from her cheek as she chewed. "And you think my sleeping on the couch is bad. Go home, Lisbon."

"Did you solve the case?" she asked. "What time is it?"

"Yes, and way past your bedtime," he replied.

She scowled at the non-enlightening answers. "Who did it?"

"The girlfriend. She was upset he'd hooked up with his old college flame. That's what the coded note was-they were writing little love notes to each other. I found the cipher in his old chemistry textbook."

Lisbon frowned. That seemed way too obvious, but they'd ruled out the girlfriend for good reason. "How'd she get into the lab?"

"Oldest trick in the book: seducing the security guard. Really, I can't believe you missed it." He waited for her to finish the pastry, then said, "Go on, go home. This will all still be here in the morning."

She took a long sip of coffee. "Yeah. You're right." She stood up and shrugged into her jacket. "You coming?"

"Yes. I was on my way out when I realized that if you slept there all night, your neck would be killing you all day tomorrow and none of us would have any fun."

"Oh, so you've acquired a sense of self-preservation in the last two weeks?"

"Life is full of pain, Lisbon. Why add to it unnecessarily?" he said in his usual breezy tone as they walked to the elevator.

They said good-night in the parking lot, seemingly just like a hundred nights before. But as Lisbon walked to her car, she realized that her attachment to her desk had made Jane concerned, and that meant he would be watching her more closely than usual. First thing in the morning she would impress on the jail's doctor the need to expedite Lorelei's test unless she wanted a cranky CBI agent leaning over her shoulder all weekend.

mmm

Of course, her resolve was thwarted the next morning when Agent Darcy arrived. At least she didn't look like she was here to arrest anyone, Lisbon thought as they exchanged good mornings. "Any progress on the Wainwright case?" Lisbon asked.

"You'll be relieved to know that we've excluded your team," Darcy said.

"That is good news," Lisbon smiled. "Including Jane?"

"He was one of the first; his cell was on for most of the time in question. That's how we found you in the first place," Darcy replied.

Lisbon could have kicked herself for not remembering that. It had been necessary so he'd receive Lorelei's call, and they'd known someone would think to trace it—hopefully not until they were finished catching Red John. But she knew Jane had turned his phone back off before they set out for the meeting, so that still left the question of how Darcy had known their exact location.

"I want to show you something." Darcy pulled her laptop out of its bag and booted it up. "This is security camera footage from a small private airport about half an hour away. A chartered flight left there for Las Vegas within the relevant timeframe, and they loaded some large luggage that could have contained a body."

"Good morning," Jane said cheerfully as he walked into the office. "Ah, I see I've arrived in time for Show and Tell."

Lisbon frowned at the screen as a woman about her size with long dark hair wrestled with a huge suitcase until an airport employee came to help her load it onto the small jet. Suddenly Darcy's suspicions made sense. "That's not me, but now I see where you got the idea."

"Of course it's not you," Jane said. "The gait's all wrong, and she's wearing a wig. Look at the way she keeps patting her head, like she's not sure it's going to stay on."

Darcy glanced at him, then back at Lisbon. "Our analysts said so too, finally. But it looks like someone wanted us to find this, someone who knew you'd have no credible alibi."

"I'm credible," Jane said, pretending to be insulted. Darcy and Lisbon ignored him.

"Could it be Lorelei?" Lisbon asked. After all, Jane had pointed out the physical similarities. Red John couldn't have a whole string of Lisbon-lookalikes, could he?

"Hm. Play that again," Jane said, coming closer and peering at the screen. "No, I don't think so. It's hard to tell since she's fighting with that suitcase, but Lorelei's very deliberate in her movements. Graceful. This woman isn't."

"What's the name on the passenger manifest?" Lisbon asked.

"Tracy Cardinal," Darcy replied. "Fake, of course. I assume you think this was an attempt by Red John to frame you?"

Before Lisbon could answer, Jane said, "It wasn't a very serious attempt, was it? He could have doctored the footage with a real image of Lisbon, or found a double who'd pass from the front from a long angle. I think he was just sending us a message."

Lisbon thought about mentioning the text, but decided not to. Darcy might or might not be Red John's mole, but she was certainly susceptible to his misdirects. Jane apparently thought the same, since he didn't mention it either.

"Maybe," Darcy said. "If you have any further thoughts, please let me know."

"Certainly. I really enjoy these little chats," Jane said.

Darcy didn't bother to respond, merely wishing them both a good day as she left. Jane started to say something, but stopped as Lisbon's desk phone rang. The caller ID told her it was the call she'd been waiting for. _Oh God, why now? With Jane standing right there?_ she thought.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" Jane asked.

She snatched the phone up. "Lisbon."

"Agent Lisbon, this is Doctor Dever at the Sacramento County Jail. I have those test results you wanted."

"Yes?"

"She's definitely pregnant. It's very early days yet, however. I cautioned her not to get her hopes up; the miscarriage risk is high for the first trimester, even for healthy women."

Lisbon concentrated on keeping outwardly calm despite the pit that had just opened in her stomach. "I understand. Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your getting back to me so quickly." She needed to keep this woman happy; she was going to need regular reports.

"You're welcome. I'll let you know of any developments." She hung up.

Lisbon held on to the phone for a moment, then set it down and dared a quick glance at Jane, who was frowning. "Bad news?" he asked.

"Just some information about a case," she replied, which was totally true and hopefully wouldn't trip his inner lie detector. "So. We have a stack of cold cases from while you were on your little undercover operation. I know you're dying to show us how easily you can solve them all."

He hesitated, as if deciding whether to let her redirect the conversation. Then he said, "By all means, let me prove myself useful. This stack here?" He picked up the files on the little table by the couch.

"Yes."

"I'll get right on that," he said, with only a little edge in his tone. He looked at her quizzically, then, to her great relief, left to go read the files on his couch.

Lisbon grabbed her cell and texted Cho. _Meet me for coffee in twenty_. He texted back an "OK" immediately, and she turned back to her paperwork, pretending to concentrate while her mind spun. _Oh, God. How am I going to do this?_

**A/N: Don't hate me! Next chapter is almost done and should be posted tomorrow**


	8. Chapter 8: Discovery

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist.

**Author's Note:** I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, especially the second half, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

**Chapter Eight: Discovery**

Lisbon and Cho, careful not to leave the office at the same time, met at a little coffee shop a few blocks away from the office and grabbed a table back in the corner, fortifying themselves with overpriced coffee. "Lorelei's pregnant, the doctor says," Lisbon told him when they were settled.

"Damn," Cho said, taking a sip of coffee. "But that doesn't mean it's Jane's. Are you going to tell him now?"

"Yes," she sighed. "I probably would have either way; if it'd been a lie, it would still have told us something about Red John's intentions."

"True. What do you need from me?"

Lisbon was grateful for Cho's no-nonsense attitude. Focusing on the practical rather than the emotional aspects of this situation was calming. "Help me keep him from running off and doing anything stupid. And tell Rigsby and Van Pelt."

"Sure. I'll—" Cho glanced up suddenly, looking as close to surprised as he ever did.

Lisbon was more resigned than startled when a hand landed on her shoulder and Jane said, "So, I must have missed the memo about the secret meeting." He pulled over a chair and squeezed himself in at their table. "Or was I left off the invitation list because I'm on the agenda?"

Cho looked at Lisbon, who gave him a short nod. He got to his feet and said, "Good luck."

"Thanks," Lisbon replied dryly as he left.

"Wow," Jane said. "It must be serious if Cho's beating a hasty retreat. Aren't you going to ask how I found you?"

Lisbon let out a sigh. "You read my mind? Because that would actually come in handy right now."

"Lisbon, if I could read your mind, I would never, ever admit it to you," he grinned. "Besides, I imagine a significant percentage of your thoughts about me are ones I wouldn't care to hear. A majority, even." He moved over to Cho's vacated chair so he was facing her and leaned back, looking at ease except for the faint lines around his eyes. "You're the one always complaining about being busy, so why don't you stop wasting time lying to me and tell me what's going on? It's something with Lorelei, isn't it? What did she tell you?"

Lisbon realized there was no good way to gradually introduce the topic. "She's pregnant."

Jane's eyes lit, and he leaned forward. "That changes things. We can work this to our advantage."

She recoiled, shocked. It took him a moment to notice, but he immediately guessed what she was thinking. "I see. She told you I was the father, and you believed her? Really, Lisbon, how absurd!"

"So you're saying you didn't have sex with her?" she challenged.

"No. I did; you already know that. But I'm not an idiot, Lisbon. I used a condom."

"One you bought, or one she had?"

He grimaced as he saw where she was going with that question and said sharply, "She brought it. And no, I didn't take the time to inspect it under a magnifying glass."

Lisbon noticed that he'd now crossed both arms and legs and turned slightly away from her. Her heart hurt a little that he felt he had to protect himself from her, but she knew that if anyone else had asked him these questions he would have deflected or counterattacked. His continuing the conversation was an expression of trust, she reminded herself.

He seemed to realize he was being combative and softened his tone. "That doesn't change the fact that it's unlikely this pregnancy resulted from that night. It's far more likely that this is someone else's child. And I'm guessing it's Red John's. Which means we probably don't have to worry about him killing her."

"That may be," she said slowly. "But Lorelei claims she was sent to give you a child to replace the one you lost. She says she is your path to redemption and her child will be your savior."

His face twisted in disgust. "No one," he said quietly, "will ever replace my daughter. One person can't replace another. Anyone who wasn't a sociopath would realize that."

"So that is the story he fed her," Lisbon mused. "But his real purpose has to be to gain leverage over you."

"But he already has that. He just got finished pointing that out to us," Jane said, frowning in thought.

Lisbon took a sip of her coffee and let him mull it over. When she looked up again, she froze at the expression on his face. She'd last seen it while lying on a dirty floor wearing a bomb. "What?" she demanded, alarmed.

Jane's voice was hoarse. "You're not very good leverage, Lisbon. You can protect yourself, and you'd do everything you could to prevent my making a bad choice, regardless of the cost to yourself. But a baby is different. I see his sick game now. He wants to put me in a position where I have to choose. To punish me."

"Choose?" But she understood. Red John resented that Jane had chosen her life over what he offered. He wanted to make Jane pay for that choice. What worse agony could there be than to have to choose between the lives of an innocent child and the person who meant the most to him? Even if the child wasn't Jane's, the dilemma would still be cruel.

Lisbon put down her coffee. "Jane. Look at me." She waited until he did. "That's not your choice to make, because I'm making it for you here and now."

"Don't. You can't predict what the situation will be." Despite his attempt to sound calm, she could hear the distress in his voice.

She kept her own voice soft and quiet. "I know that I'd never choose to live at the cost of a child's life. Jane, look at me. You know I mean it."

He looked at her for a long time, then nodded.

"Anyway," she said, breaking eye contact and trying for a normal tone again, "doesn't it throw a wrench into the works if you don't believe it's yours? If you don't buy into the premise?"

"Maybe. It's not a secret I'm a selfish bastard, though. And Red John thinks we're more similar than we actually are. He might think I'd choose you again. But if I did, you'd hate me for it."

She shook her head, but she knew she might not be able to promise that. "Oh crap," she muttered suddenly.

"What?"

"Lorelei said she was looking forward to seeing what I was willing to sacrifice. I think I might be more than just one of your choices, Jane. What if he thinks he can make me choose, too? To walk away from you?"

Jane stared at her for a moment, then gave her a half-grin. "Lisbon, you are getting more devious by the year. But he must know by now—"

"An innocent life is the only way he could ever make me do it," she murmured.

He shook his head. "You made my choice for me; I'm making yours for you. Don't hesitate; I'm not worth it."

"You're worth it to me," she said quietly.

He gave her a sad smile and patted her hand. "Drink your coffee. We need to get back to work. And I need to talk to Lorelei."

mmm

She called Cho to let him know they were heading for the jail as they left the coffeehouse. Jane was unusually silent during the drive, formulating a strategy, she hoped. She was pulling into the jail's parking lot before he spoke.

"So how have you been playing this?"

She shrugged. "You called it: Red John obviously gave her the idea that she'd be the other woman. She's put a lot of effort into trying to upset me, and I've tried to get across that I don't see her as a threat. Um…I may also have exaggerated my influence on you."

Jane chuckled. "Not possible, Lisbon."

"Right. Because you never listen to me clearly telling you why you can't do something and then go do it anyway," she scoffed.

"That aside, out of the 7 billion people currently on this planet, you clearly have the most influence on me."

Only because the ones with the strongest influence were dead, she thought involuntarily. "I want one thing clear before we go in there. I'm not going to play the jealous girlfriend for your amusement."

He sighed. "I won't say I'm not disappointed, but if you'd rather take the high road, I won't object."

Lisbon was beginning to have misgivings about this visit. She had a feeling that with the three of them in the same room, this interrogation could veer without warning into a toxic swamp of personal issues. Someone needed to keep in mind that this was a criminal investigation, and it would have to be her, especially if Jane decided this was another opportunity to amuse himself at her expense.

Jane abandoned his teasing tone. "Red John has set this up at least partly to cause problems between us and distract us. We need to stay focused on our goal."

"Yes, we do," she agreed. "And that means keeping your twisted sense of humor under control."

"Yes," he said. "But in the event that proves impossible, just kick me under the table. Wait, what shoes are you wearing?" He made a show of checking, which made her smile despite herself.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to permanently cripple you," she assured him as they got out of the car. "I don't think I could carry you out. All that time in Vegas made you flabby."

"Lisbon!" he protested. Then he recovered. "Just because you stopped eating and got all scrawny—ow!"

Lisbon looked down at her feet. "These shoes are sturdier than they look," she noted.

mmm

Lorelei's face lit up when Jane walked into the room. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever see you again, lover," she purred. Then she pouted. "She told you, didn't she? I wanted to see your face when you heard our news!"

Lisbon wondered what Lorelei would have made of the cold calculation she'd seen on Jane's face when he heard. His face was impassive now as he settled into his chair, scooting it a little closer to Lisbon's. "Our news? I'm supposed to believe that?"

Lorelei sighed. "I told you: I do what Red John tells me to do. He told me to give you this gift." Then she smiled again. "You'll be happy when you see him for the first time. Or her. Do you have a preference?" When Jane didn't respond, she continued, "I've been thinking about names. I like Isabel for a girl. What do you think?"

"I'd prefer Teresa," Jane said calmly. Lisbon barely managed to keep a straight face as Lorelei scowled.

"No! I'm not having my child named after _her_!"

Lisbon knew her cue when she heard it. "Why not?" she asked. "You'll be in prison. I'll be a much bigger part of this child's life than you will. In fact, I'll be the one she thinks of as a mother. But don't worry, I'll make sure she sends you a card on Mother's Day. After she's old enough to know the truth, of course." She noted the simmering rage on Lorelei's face with satisfaction and turned to Jane. "Of course, two Teresas could get confusing. Unless you plan to keep calling me Lisbon?"

"We could call her Tess," Jane suggested.

"I suppose. I hope she has your hair," Lisbon replied.

"I wish she could have your eyes," Jane said, smiling wistfully at her.

Lorelei practically shrieked, "No! You can't have my child! You'll never lay a hand on her!"

"Calm down, please," Jane said. "Getting upset is bad for the baby. And don't worry, Teresa will make a fantastic mother. She's great with kids."

"It doesn't matter," Lorelei hissed, "because she'll be dead before the baby's even born!"

"Oh," Jane said, turning to Lisbon. "Then I guess we'd better make some reservations and get started on your bucket list."

"Yes, no time to lose," Lisbon smirked. "I'll book the airline tickets and you pick the hotel." Then she turned back to Lorelei. "Please. Red John's been trying to kill me for years and he hasn't even come close. He probably told you he's been biding his time, but the plain fact is, he's all talk. Just like any other man." Jane cleared his throat, and she quickly added, "Present company excepted, of course."

Lorelei said, "You'll be begging to die before he's through with you. I just hope I'm there to see it!" She turned a cruel smile on Jane. "I know you will be."

"Really?" Jane said, unconcerned. He looked at Lisbon. "I think we have other plans that night."

"I know we do," she agreed. Then she turned back to Lorelei. "Have fun thinking up baby names, but don't get too attached. I'll probably change it, you know. Oh, I know!" She looked at Jane. "If it's a boy, let's name him Virgil."

If Lorelei's looks could kill, Lisbon knew she'd be a smoldering pile of ashes by now. But Jane was grinning at her in approval. "I like that," he said. "But I think we should talk about it later. We're upsetting Lorelei, and I'm sure her doctor would disapprove."

"Have your fun," Lorelei said. "While you can." She focused on Jane. "You should be more grateful. Red John can give wonderful gifts, but he can also give punishments, and they are painful. Enjoy her while you can, because he can take her away from you any time he wants. Maybe he'll even slip into your room one night and cut her up while you're lying beside her. Imagine what it would be like to wake up to that. Imagine how it would feel."

Jane considered. "I think I'd be very, very surprised," he mused. Then he sprang to his feet. "Well, Lorelei, it's been fun as always. But we have someplace else to be. I'll check back with you in a few days, all right? If you talk to your friend, tell him thanks for the gift, and we're looking forward to receiving it."

She glared at him a little tearfully. "You'll be sorry you treated me this way. Remember that."

"Just one more on the very long list of things I'm sorry for," he said, losing his smile as he gestured for Lisbon to precede him out the door. "Take care of yourself, Lorelei."

"You too, lover," she called after him, not sounding like she meant it


	9. Chapter 9: Lies

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist and intend no infringement. Just having a little fun!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone who's still reading, and especially those of you still reviewing! Tackling this plot while trying to remain true to the show is a real challenge, and your thoughts help keep me on course.

**Chapter Nine: Lies**

Jane and Lisbon didn't speak until they were safely in the car. Then Jane grinned. "Well done, Lisbon, very well done indeed! Cards on Mother's Day! I always knew you had a mean streak in you. But I have to admit, I'm impressed."

"You're happy with what just happened in there? All we found out was that Red John means to kill me in front of you," she said, looking at him in exasperation.

"And that's hardly news," he replied. "But it's the when and where we need to know. We now have it narrowed down to sometime in the next eight months. But I think Lorelei's jumping the gun on that. Red John wants to have some more fun with us before the end game." He turned to look out the window as she started the car and made her way out of the parking lot. They were halfway back to the CBI before he spoke again. "What I can't figure out is why she thinks we're sleeping together. If Red John is watching us, he must know it isn't true. So where did she get the idea?"

Lisbon bit her lip and kept her eyes on the road. "She's probably just projecting."

"Hmmm," he said, unconvinced. He turned to look at her. "I'm curious as to why you'd feel the need to tell her that."

Lisbon stopped at a light and lowered her head to the steering wheel for a moment, cursing the blush she could feel heating her face. Then she took a deep breath and sat up again. "She was just going on and on about your sexual technique. I couldn't find another way to make her stop other than to tell her I'd been there, done that, and if that was the high point of her life I felt sorry for her."

"Lisbon!" He managed to sound amused and outraged all at once. He sputtered for a second, then said, "I call that outright slander!"

"I'm sorry," she said, and she meant it. Jane's ego was mostly invested in his intellect, but anybody would be offended by what she'd done. If Jane had said that about her to Lorelei, she would be plotting where to bury his body. She babbled a little in panic. "I was just trying to shut her up. I'm sure you're all she says you are and more, amazing even-"

_Shut up, shut up! _her brain was screaming at her mouth, and it finally got the message. She risked a glance at Jane, who was looking out the side window. A twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement, to her great relief. "Anyway," she said in as normal a tone as she could manage, "I thought it would confirm Red John's assumptions, like you said. It's hardly believable that I would pine away for you all these years and never once get you into bed, is it?"

Jane gave a short laugh. "I'm sure if you put your mind to it, you wouldn't find it difficult. I just never thought she would get under your skin so badly!"

"I deserve a medal for not strangling her," Lisbon muttered. "Ask Cho. Or Rigsby. I didn't dare send Van Pelt in there."

"Oh, Grace would have been fine, just a little disgusted. She thinks of me as her weird uncle or something," Jane said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Yes, and you're going to have a fun time convincing her not to throw you a baby shower."

"Throw _us _a baby shower," he corrected, grinning.

"Oh no you don't. If you think for one moment you're going to leave that baby in a basket on my doorstep-"

"Hardly that." Jane's expression grew serious again. "But we are going to have to keep the baby out of Red John's hands somehow."

"Jane, you are not using a baby as bait!" Lisbon said, her fingers whitening on the steering wheel.

"I won't," he assured her. "His plan is almost certainly to break Lorelei out of jail before the baby's born. Preferably before we can do any paternity testing." He frowned. "Is it possible to do paternity testing before the baby's born?"

"How the hell would I know?" Lisbon replied. "You're the one who's done this before."

"Paternity testing was not part of that experience," he said tightly.

No, of course it hadn't been, she realized. By all accounts, his wife had been a good person, and even if she hadn't been, it was difficult to get even small things past Jane. Something like adultery he'd smell a mile away. "Sorry," she murmured. "I'll look into it. So you think he won't want us to be able to confirm paternity?"

"If he wants us to still believe I might have fathered that child," he said. "Red John doesn't do chancy plans. Even if he loaded her up with fertility drugs and timed it just right, there'd still be way too many variables he couldn't control. My hunch is he made sure she was already pregnant, but just barely, before he sent her to me. And that means if we manage to get a sample of the baby's DNA, we'll have something to match when we catch him."

"Assuming he didn't outsource that. It's obvious she has no problem sleeping with anyone he tells her to."

"That's a possibility, yes. But I think he'd enjoy getting us all worked up about a baby only to find out it's his. A cuckoo in the nest, as it were."

She made the turn into the CBI parking lot, showed her ID, and pulled into the nearest parking place. But when she switched off the ignition, she turned to face him instead of getting out of the car. "Jane," she said gently, "we have to at least consider the possibility-"

"Yes, yes," he said irritably. "All right. Possibility considered. It doesn't change the plan."

"It doesn't?" She was puzzled and a little worried.

"No. Either way, I have less than eight months to kill Red John. Either because I don't want him to twist some poor kid into a serial killer to take his place, or because I can't-" He broke off, his voice becoming hoarse. "I can't bring another child into this world to be murdered."

Lisbon laid a hand on his shoulder in response to the pain in his voice. He reached up and rested his hand on hers for a second, then threw off his seatbelt and got out of the car.

mmm

When they walked into the bullpen, it was obvious Cho had already brought Rigsby and Van Pelt up to speed. They looked up uncertainly, waiting for some kind of cue. This wasn't exactly a normal social situation, after all, and congratulations were almost certainly not in order.

"Rigsby," Lisbon said, "you're the most recent baby expert around here. Do you know anything about paternity testing?"

"No, I didn't think-we didn't need to," he replied, taken aback.

"I've been researching online," Van Pelt volunteered. "You can do something called chorionic villus sampling around the 8th to 13th week, and of course there's amniocentesis later on. Both pose a slight risk to the fetus, though."

"So she'll probably refuse to do it," Lisbon said. "Thanks, Van Pelt." She looked around the bullpen and came to a decision. "We haven't had our case closed pizza for the Graham case yet. Tonight at Mamma Ameci's, my treat."

"Thanks, boss," Van Pelt smiled up at her. They all understood that with Red John's history of moles, some things should not be discussed at work.

Lisbon headed to her office, and Jane hesitated, then started toward the kitchen. As he passed Rigsby's desk, Rigsby said, "Hey, if it turns out you need baby clothes, we've got tons, hardly used. Ben grows out of them way faster than he can wear them out. In fact, some of it he grew out of before he ever got a chance to wear it."

Jane stopped, surprised. "Thanks," he said. "I don't think that'll be necessary, but I appreciate it."

Cho said, "If you two are going to start discussing playdates, let me know so I can buy some earplugs."

"I think it's cute," Van Pelt said, smiling. "If it's a girl, she can be Ben's first girlfriend. They might even get married when they grow up!"

The three men turned to stare at her in disbelief, and she grinned to let them know she was teasing them.

"Uh, no," Rigsby said. "Just…no."

"Agreed," Jane said firmly. He pointed at Van Pelt. "And fair warning: any baby shower planning will be met with swift and merciless vengeance."

"Fine, be that way," she retorted, not quite hiding a smile. "See if I ever babysit for you."

From her office, Lisbon could see but not hear the team, and she noted their easy interaction with relief. She'd hoped they'd circle the wagons once they realized Jane might be in trouble, and they hadn't let her down. After all, they were family. They might get irritated or angry or disgusted with each other, and they might even stop speaking for a while, but in the end they were there for each other. And that was good, because she had a feeling things were going to get much worse before they got better.

mmm

It was assumed that they'd all go home after dinner, so everyone drove to the restaurant separately, except for Jane. He hopped into Lisbon's car at the last minute, and she resigned herself to one of their pre-secret-meeting meetings.

"So one thing I can't figure out," he said.

"Really? You admitting you can't figure something out? Wait while I mark my calendar," she said.

"It seems to me you've told Lorelei contradictory stories. But she obviously hasn't had any trouble swallowing them."

"Red John's disciples aren't exactly Mensa candidates," Lisbon pointed out. "What do you think is contradictory?"

"You told her we slept together and you were underwhelmed. But she still thinks we're a couple. How does that square?"

"You're such a guy," Lisbon said, rolling her eyes. "If I really loved someone, I wouldn't dump him just because he didn't wow me in bed. I'd help him get better."

"What, like a sex therapist?"

"If necessary. I think usually a little coaching is all that's required, though," she replied.

"Tell me more about this Lifetime movie version of us, Lisbon. It's horrifying, yet strangely fascinating," he said earnestly.

"Shut up," she retorted. "I'm out of practice making up cover stories. You usually did that anyway. And some of them were way more embarrassing than this."

"For you, not for me," he pointed out.

"True. But now I can have my revenge," she said, just realizing it.

"Do you really want to have a contest to see who can embarrass who more?" he asked.

"No," she admitted, deciding it was high time to change the subject. "So, did the guys give you a hard time earlier?"

"It was heartwarming, actually." He was quiet for a moment, then changed the subject again. "We can assume that Red John is in contact with Lorelei somehow. He's going to figure out the discrepancy between what we're telling her and how we are in reality."

_Crap_, Lisbon thought. That hadn't seemed like a problem in the beginning, since she and Jane were pretending to be at odds. She really hoped he wasn't going to suggest what she thought he was going to suggest. "So he'll figure out it's a gambit. So what? It doesn't change his perspective, does it? Or we could just be working our way through a rough patch. Wouldn't I still be playing along even if I were in love with you?"

He sighed, "Ah, the heartbreaking subjunctive tense. That's a question you're better equipped to answer, Lisbon. What would you do if you were in love with me?"

She didn't dare let herself imagine being in love with him, because she was afraid the simple act of picturing it might force her to deal with feelings she'd been trying to ignore. But she knew it would sound ridiculous if she said it out loud. "Check into the nearest mental hospital," she said instead.

Anyone else would have been offended, but Jane just grinned at her. "I missed you being mean to me," he reflected. "I couldn't even listen to most of your voicemails, but once or twice you let me have it, and I kept those. When it felt like I couldn't go on another day, I'd listen to them and think about you going about your life, heaping sarcasm on the hapless and unwary, safe from Red John because he was busy watching me."

"You're an idiot," she retorted. "You're just lucky he didn't come after one of us to test you. Did you ever think about that?"

"All too often. It was one of the risks I couldn't avoid."

"And you didn't even have the courtesy to warn us!"

"Lisbon, you're the one who's always reminding me you're a cop and you don't need or want my protection. Do we really have to have this conversation now?" He gestured to the restaurant, less than a block away now. "We shouldn't fight in front of the kids, you know."

"Bite me," she muttered. "You only say that because you know they'd be on my side. And I dare you to call Cho a kid to his face."

"Because we're not living dangerously enough?" he chuckled.

She smacked him half-heartedly on the shoulder, and then turned her attention to parallel parking.


	10. Chapter 10: Predictability

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay in this chapter. I came down with a bug, so if it's a little disjointed, I blame the fever! Also, I got my first flame, so now I can make smores...

**Chapter Ten: Predictability**

Mamma Ameci's was a family restaurant, so the sound levels frequently hovered around ear-splitting. It was one of the reasons Lisbon had chosen it. They met the others in the entryway and requested a table in the back, then ordered beers—except for Jane, who glanced at Lisbon and then declared his intention to stick with water.

"Good," she said, "you can be the designated driver."

He held out his hand. "Then give me your keys now."

"Why?"

"Because you hate it when I drive, and you're more argumentative after a couple of beers."

"So? You usually just pick my pocket if you can't win the argument."

"The last time I did that, you threatened to punch me in the nose the next time," he pointed out.

"Here," Lisbon said, tossing her keys on the table in front of him. "Stop whining."

The server brought their drinks and took their food orders, then left again.

Lisbon said, "First, thanks to you all for your hard work on the Graham case. Second, we have survived another audit. Congratulations." She raised her glass. "To the best unit in the CBI."

They drank the toast, and then Cho said, "So what's the plan?"

Jane said, "Red John will want to break Lorelei out of jail before we can do any paternity testing. He's never had a problem getting to anyone in custody before, and we know he's got a source in the FBI. So he will probably succeed, unless we make her disappear."

"WITSEC?" Rigsby asked.

Jane shook his head. "He's got a source in the FBI; he could easily have one among the federal marshals."

"Wait a minute," Lisbon said, frowning. "You're not suggesting we kidnap her?"

"Is it really kidnapping if we just remove her from jail and put her in secret protective custody?" Jane asked.

"Yes!" she replied. "Lorelei's being held not just as an accomplice of Red John's, but also as a suspect in Wainwright's murder, which the FBI is investigating. If we make her disappear we'll have to tell them something."

"So we stage it like an escape. With the history of Red John witnesses not making it to court, it won't be unbelievable."

Cho was shaking his head. "If we do that, assuming we don't get arrested ourselves, we'll trash any case we could build against her. We'd be hiding her from her defense lawyer."

Lisbon said, "Jane, I know you don't care about procedure, but we owe it to Wainwright to make sure everybody that had a hand in his murder is brought to justice. We can't just run off with the only witness and risk that she'd walk. Let's find another way."

Jane sighed, disappointed. "Then we'll have to do it the hard way. Let's arrange for protective custody and make sure we notify the FBI through Agent Darcy."

"If she's not the mole, someone close to her is," Lisbon explained to the others. "Red John found out Jane was playing him after Darcy realized the corpse wasn't Rigsby. There's obviously a channel of communication there." She looked back at Jane. "So you think Red John will seize the opportunity?"

"Yes."

"Last minute switch?" Cho guessed.

"You got it." Jane turned to Lisbon. "You'll have to either cut your hair or wear a wig. Which do you prefer?"

"I'm not cutting my hair for this," she retorted.

Van Pelt protested, "You're going to hand Lisbon over to Red John? On purpose? Isn't that what we want to avoid?"

"An armed and wired Lisbon," Jane clarified.

"I don't like it," Rigsby muttered into his beer.

"Nobody _likes_ it," Jane agreed. "If any of you have a better idea, by all means enlighten us."

Lisbon said, "It's not like Red John's going to break her out of jail personally. I'll be dealing with hired help, more than likely."

"Or brainwashed zealots," Cho said. "I vote against this plan."

"Me too," Rigsby said quickly.

"Me three," Van Pelt added. She frowned at Jane. "This isn't the way. Think of something else."

"I'm trying," he said testily. "It would be nice if you helped instead of merely telling me why we can't do things."

"We are helping. We're keeping you—and us—out of jail," Rigsby said.

"Look. Our one advantage is the chance to turn Red John's planning back on him. He chose Lorelei for her passing resemblance to Lisbon. We can use that—"

Cho interrupted. "And what if Red John realizes that too? What if this is how he always meant to grab her? It's not like he can realistically kidnap her from the CBI offices, or from a crime scene with all those cops around. There's no foolproof way now that we're forewarned. So what if the plan all along was to trick us into handing her to him? Make you think you're being clever and all the while he's sitting there just waiting for us to do the work for him. He'd have her, and it would be our fault."

Jane scowled at him. "My fault, you mean."

"Yes," Cho shot back.

Jane glared at him. "And what if this is our only opportunity, but he thinks we won't take it because he's studied all of us and doesn't think you'd take the risk?"

Van Pelt said, "It doesn't matter. We're not taking the risk."

"Let's all calm down—" Lisbon began, but Jane pushed away from the table abruptly and stalked toward the exit. "Nice job," she said, frowning. "If he thinks he can't count on us, he'll run off and do something stupid— Oh, crap, I gave him my keys!"

She got up and pushed through the tables as fast as she could, hoping she'd be in time to intercept Jane. When she got to the street, she looked around anxiously, only to find him leaning against her car with his head down and his arms folded.

He didn't look up as she approached. "I wasn't going to strand you," he said irritably.

"Give me my keys," she demanded, holding out her hand.

He dug in his pocket and put her keys in her upturned palm, then wrapped his hand around hers for a moment. "Cho's right," he said heavily. "It's just the kind of gamble he thinks I'd take."

"We'd take," she corrected him. "You can't make me do anything I don't decide to do, Jane."

"But you almost never push back anymore," he said, finally looking at her. "You were going to do it, weren't you, even after Cho pointed out it could well be a trap?"

"I hadn't decided yet," she said, but she could tell he wasn't convinced.

"I need you to have a little less faith in me, Lisbon. He's pushed the stakes so high this time—I'm afraid I might be distracted. I'm terrified I'm going to make a stupid mistake that none of us can live with." He folded his arms and looked down again, hunching in on himself.

For all the times she'd wished he had a little less self-confidence, especially when it came to Red John, she hated seeing him this way. She touched him lightly on the arm. "You aren't doing this alone, Jane. We're doing it, all of us, together. And I know you think of this as your personal quest, but this is my job. I'm prepared to take some risks to catch a killer. We all are." When he didn't respond, she took a step back toward the restaurant and gestured for him to follow. "Now come on. I'm hungry, and I hate cold pizza."

mmm

When they got back to their table, the pizzas had arrived, but Rigsby was the only one eating. Cho and Van Pelt were having what looked like an intense discussion, ignoring their plates. As Lisbon approached, she heard Van Pelt say, "It's like playing a team that stole your playbook. You have to throw it out the window and try something new."

"Exactly," Cho said. "So what is the last thing Red John would ever expect us to do?"

Rigsby paused between bites. "Hand over Lisbon on purpose?"

"Do nothing," Van Pelt guessed.

Lisbon took her seat. "Play it strictly by the book," she offered.

Jane reached for a piece of pizza and said, "Take things at face value."

"That's all true," Cho said. "You and he have been playing this twisted game for so long that we're always looking for the conspiracy angle."

Jane nodded slowly. "If we suddenly started treating him like any other killer, it would definitely throw off his game, at least for a little while. But that would mean he'd get Lorelei back."

"It's too bad we can't wire her up," Rigsby said. "Or fit her with a GPS tracker."

They all thought about that for a minute. "No," Lisbon sighed. "Unless we figured out a way to get it inside her somehow, it'd be too easy to get rid of. But let's start looking at everyone with access to the jail and try to identify the most likely to be recruited." She glanced at Jane. "And you should ask her if she's willing to take the paternity test as early as possible."

"She'll say no," he predicted.

Lisbon said, "Let's try gathering evidence instead of making predictions. Ask her anyway. And perhaps hint that we're thinking of moving her for her own protection, soon. That might spark some preparation if Red John wants to grab her in transit, and if we're looking closely enough we might spot it. Maybe even trace it back to him."

Van Pelt said, "This is all assuming he'll try to get her back instead of killing her like he has the others. Do you think he really cares about her?"

They all looked at Jane. He shrugged. "It's possible he genuinely cares about her, I suppose. Or at least the baby."

Rigsby said, "If he cared about her, would he really hand her over like he did? She was the only one to come out of that car alive. It was risky, wasn't it? I'd never do that to someone I cared about."

Jane opened his mouth, paused, then sat back, his mouth in a wry twist. "I was about to say 'Neither would I,' except our earlier conversation pretty much proves that given the right stakes, I might."

"Except we're not your minions," Lisbon reminded him. "You'd have to make a good case and a good plan for any of us to agree with you. And that's our advantage. He probably doesn't have anyone to tell him when he's being an idiot, and you do."

"Several times a day, in fact," he said, reaching for his water.

"We'll go see Lorelei tomorrow," she said.

"I'm not sure we should both go," Jane replied. "Given the way she reacted today, you're guaranteed to be a major distraction. If we want to plant ideas in her head, maybe I should see her alone, let her think I have some sympathy for her when you're not around."

"The person she thinks I am wouldn't leave you alone in a room with her for two seconds," Lisbon retorted.

"True. Maybe I'm sneaking around behind your back?" he suggested.

Lisbon said, "You couldn't do that without getting caught. I haven't put you on the list of people allowed to see her without me being there."

"Lisbon, I'm hurt. Really. Do you have to make your lack of trust plain in front of our colleagues?"

She ignored that. "I have a better idea."

mmm

Her cell phone rang in the dead of night, waking her from a sound sleep for once. She wasn't fully awake as she answered it. "Lisbon."

There was a barely audible choking sound on the other end, followed by someone clearing their throat. "Lisbon," Jane said finally, "I'm sorry I woke you, but I got another text."

"And it couldn't wait until morning?"

"I've forwarded it to you."

"Hang on a sec," she sighed, accessing her messages. Someone had sent Jane a picture of the two of them from earlier, when they'd talked outside the restaurant. The picture had been taken from behind Jane, so it showed the back of his head and one shoulder, focusing on her face. _Damn_, she thought. She hadn't realized her emotions had been showing so clearly.

She was so absorbed by the picture that it took her a minute to realize that a text had accompanied it: _Something to remember her by_.

"Okay," she said, holding the phone back up to her face. "I see why you called. But I'm fine. He's just messing with you."

"Lisbon, if someone was sending messages like that about any of the rest of us, you'd have us in protective custody so fast it'd make our heads spin," he said angrily.

"You were the one who said he wasn't done playing with us yet," she pointed out.

"And what if I'm wrong?"

She wasn't sure those words had ever come out of his mouth before. "Protective custody would just make me a sitting duck. I'm safer at the CBI," she said.

"I'm on my way to the office. Meet me there," he urged.

"What time is it?" She blinked at her bedside clock, which read 4:00 a.m.

"It's not like you're going back to sleep, is it?" he demanded.

"Oh, all right," she grumbled.

As she drove, she tried to work out what to do next. She didn't want to go into protective custody, not least because that would leave Jane to his own devices. And when he got emotional, he got reckless. His natural default seemed to be to process everything intellectually, with the emotional component being an afterthought; that was why he came off as callous. When his emotions started to show, it meant he wasn't thinking clearly anymore, which was clearly what Red John intended. She needed to keep a close eye on him, and that wasn't something she could delegate.

She called him back as she drove, and he answered instantly. "What's wrong? Where are you?"

"I'm fine. I was just thinking that he might be trying to freak you out to make you an easier target."

"I am not freaking out," he replied indignantly. "And I'm not his target. Where are you?"

"Almost there," she said. "Where are you?"

"I'm here. So is Grace. Cho and Rigsby are on their way."

"Dammit, Jane, there was no need to get everybody up in the middle of the night!"

"I disagree. So does Grace, by the way."

"Maybe this is his cunning plan: make us all so anxious and sleep-deprived that we won't even notice when he sneaks up on us," she said sarcastically.

"You need coffee," he said. "Grace is making a pot as we speak. Don't stop anywhere."

"Where would I stop at four in the morning?" she snapped. "I'm pulling into the lot now. Get that coffee ready."

Jane met her at the elevator and put the mug into her hand, wisely saying nothing as they walked to the bullpen.

"Another dead end," Van Pelt said, frustrated. "But it looks like he was close to you. Across the street at most."

Lisbon tried to remember if she'd seen anyone on the street. The area had a lot of foot traffic, and no one had stood out, but then of course she had been focused on Jane. She needed to be paying more attention to her surroundings, she thought in irritation.

Van Pelt continued, "Of course it didn't have to be him, just one of his 'friends.'"

"See if there are any banks or other businesses with security cameras in that area," Lisbon said. "It can't hurt to take a look."

Rigsby arrived, frowned at the picture and message, and went to grab a cup of coffee. He poured another one for Cho, who got there a minute later, and they all sat down to discuss the next move. It quickly turned into an argument, which Lisbon finally quashed by saying, "I'm the boss, and I'm making this call. I'm staying on the job, at least until there's some evidence of a threat other than text messages. This is the reaction he's trying to get. We are not going to let him pull our strings, and that's final. Now, since we're all here, let's get started on those background checks of everyone with access to the county jail."

"I have the list," Van Pelt said.

"Great." Lisbon divided the sheets of paper between them all, except Jane. He got a glare and instructions. "When the sun comes up, you can go get breakfast for us all, since coming to work before dawn was your idea. And not just doughnuts. I need a solid breakfast if I'm going to face Lorelei on four hours' sleep."

"Fair enough," he murmured, sipping at his tea. "I'd like to look at the background checks when you get them, though."

"Fine," she snapped, heading for her office.

When she was gone, Van Pelt turned to Jane. "You could talk her into it, couldn't you?"

"I'm not so sure," Jane mused. "Not until after she's had her coffee, anyway." He took another sip of tea, and Van Pelt went back to her work, leaving him to his thoughts.


	11. Chapter 11: Escape

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist.

**Author's Note: **I can't tell you how much all your reviews and favorites mean to me! Thanks for hanging in there. You make me feel way better about the fact that apparently part of my brain can think like a serial killer. :)

**Chapter Eleven: Escape**

Lorelei looked sullenly at them, not even offering a greeting. Jane pretended not to notice. "So how are you today, Lorelei? How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she replied. Then she gave him a sly smile. "How are you? Anything _interesting_ happening?"

"That depends on how you define interesting," Jane said. "Your friend seems to find Lisbon irresistibly photogenic."

That got him scowls from both women. Jane grinned at Lisbon before turning back to Lorelei. "So I have to ask this, Lorelei. Would you be willing to take a paternity test?"

"Yes," she said, looking more cheerful. "If it will help you accept your new path, I'll be happy to."

That wasn't the answer they had expected, but Jane merely nodded. "Good. Because I have some decisions to make, but I want to make sure I have all the facts first."

Lisbon's phone rang. She glanced at it and frowned. "I have to take this." She got up and started for the door, glancing back over her shoulder at Jane. "Behave!"

"Of course," he replied as she left.

Lorelei seemed to relax. "What kind of test do you want me to take?"

"There's one we can do in six weeks or so. There's a slight risk to the baby, so you'll want to discuss it with a doctor first," he said. He leaned forward. "Are you comfortable here? Do you feel safe?"

"Yes," she said.

He hesitated, then said, "Because we're not sure you are. None of Red John's friends survive long in custody. So we're thinking about moving you."

"If you think it's best. But I'm not worried. He doesn't want to kill me, you know. I haven't given you his gift yet."

"None of the others thought he wanted to kill them, either," Jane said.

"They had fulfilled their purpose," she said serenely. "I haven't yet. You'll see."

Lisbon came back into the room. "Jane, we have to go," she said. She looked between them and frowned. "What were you talking about?"

Jane walked over to her. "Nothing to concern you," he said easily. Then, to her astonishment, he leaned in as if he were going to kiss her.

Her hand came up automatically, covering his mouth and pushing him back a little as she tried to figure out what the hell he was doing.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Not while we're at work, I know. But you're just so darn adorable when you're suspicious."

She frowned at him, but she thought she knew what he was up to now. "What did you do?" she demanded. "You only flatter me when you're hoping I won't notice something." She glared at Lorelei. "What did he say?"

"I'm not one to kiss and tell," Lorelei said smugly.

"You said something you weren't supposed to, didn't you?" Lisbon demanded. "Jane, I swear, I can't trust you out of my sight for five minutes! Come on, we're leaving." She stalked angrily out the door.

Jane called a casual good-bye to Lorelei as they left, and that was the last either of them spoke until they were safely in the car.

"So," Lisbon said. "You were wrong about the paternity test."

"We'll see if she actually does it," he said, seemingly unconcerned. "She's just trying to convince me. I told her we were thinking about moving her. She didn't seem to care."

"So Red John's plan may not involve anyone at this particular jail," Lisbon mused. They drove in silence for a while, until she couldn't resist saying, "I hate it when you improvise, you know."

He grinned. "I knew you'd stop me." He looked at her for a few moments, then said, "Don't worry, Lisbon. I'm well aware that you will never forgive me if I kiss you for the first time under false pretenses."

_For the first time?_ she thought. Well, that was a can of worms she wasn't willing to open while driving to work on four hours' sleep with a bagel sitting in her stomach like a lead weight. "I need more coffee," she said. "Let's stop and pick up some of the good stuff for everyone."

"My treat," Jane offered.

mmm

When it came time for everyone to go home, Lisbon realized that her team hadn't accepted her decision as final after all. For the next three nights, one of them followed her home from work, and when she peeked out her window at odd hours, she always saw a familiar vehicle parked on the street.

"Look," she told them finally, "you can't keep this up. You're all sleep deprived, and nothing has happened. Jane and I both agree that Red John is trying to throw us off our game. He has no immediate intention of coming after me."

Jane made one of his little nonverbal disagreements. "I wasn't quite so definite, Lisbon. He's likely just waiting for us to let our guard down again before his next move. Which may just be another taunt, but may be something more serious."

"We all know what Red John is capable of. Sitting in a car outside my place is probably not an effective defense," she retorted.

Cho said, "Then you should agree to protective custody."

"We've been over this," Lisbon said impatiently. "Anyway, Red John is probably distracted right now. Ever since we told the FBI we wanted to move Lorelei to protective custody, they've been arguing with Bertram about who gets her. He's probably busy with his FBI contacts making sure it goes his way."

"You're just guessing," Van Pelt pointed out.

"I'm being careful," Lisbon said firmly, looking at each of them in turn. "The surveillance stops. That's an order. It's not sustainable without putting us in more danger because you'll be tired and not thinking straight. I've taken precautions, and my gun is never out of reach. All right?"

They all knew she was right, but their response was unenthusiastic. Lisbon rolled her eyes and went into her office, sitting down to pore over the background checks on people with access to the jail. They still hadn't been able to find a viable suspect, despite several initially promising leads.

Jane came in and sat down on her couch, taking a sip of his tea and looking at her. She ignored him for a while, until he got up and headed for the door again. Surprised that he was giving up so easily, she looked up, only to see him pull the door closed and sit down in the chair across her desk. "I have been informed," he said, "by a group of armed and determined individuals that I am not allowed to leave this room until you agree to go into protective custody."

She sat back in her chair and sighed. "I guess I'd better get you a toothbrush, then."

"I can't help but sympathize with them," he mused. "If our roles were reversed, you would have tased me by now and dragged me off to some dreary safehouse. This, by the way, is a plan being seriously considered in some circles. The main drawback seems to be that no one knows what to do next. Hypnotism has also been suggested."

Annoyed as she was, Lisbon couldn't help being a little amused by these hints at the discussions that must have taken place in the bullpen over the last few days. "I assume you told them what I promised to do to you if you ever hypnotize me against my will?"

"It didn't seem appropriate for polite company," he replied. "I did state my firm intention to avoid such a fate, however." He took one last sip and set his empty cup and saucer on her desk. "Lisbon, we can't all go on like this. They're not going to go home and sleep when they think you're in danger."

"Maybe I should have you hypnotize them," she muttered. She looked at him for a moment and said, "You look like you're sleeping even less than usual. You're not sitting up nights staring at my window too, are you?"

"No. I leave that to the professionals, who are inured to boredom." He grimaced. "I have been enjoying an entirely new set of nightmares, thanks to Lorelei and Cho. Fortunately for you, I've had someone else to call to ascertain that you're still alive, rather than disrupting your sleep."

"There's a silver lining to being spied on," she grumbled. Not that she'd been sleeping much either, she admitted to herself. She had no doubt Jane could tell, too. "Listen. We need to—"

Her desk phone rang, and she picked it up. "Lisbon."

"Agent Lisbon, this is Doctor Dever at the Sacramento County Jail. I wanted to inform you that Lorelei Martins is being rushed to the hospital after complaining of severe abdominal cramps and bleeding. She's being taken to Mercy hospital—"

"Thank you, Doctor, I'm on my way," Lisbon interrupted, hanging up the phone and grabbing her gun and badge out of her drawer. "It's Lorelei," she told Jane. "She's on her way to the hospital."

"We need a police escort for that ambulance," he said as they hurried out of her office.

"Right." Lisbon detoured through the bullpen. "Cho, Lorelei's being taken to Mercy hospital—get a police escort down there."

"Right, boss."

Van Pelt looked up. "Do you want me to come with you?" she offered. The rest of the team had lately been reluctant to let her leave without one of them, evidently feeling that Jane wouldn't be much protection.

"No, I'll let you know if we need you," Lisbon said, hurrying to join Jane at the elevator.

mmm

When they got to the hospital, Lorelei hadn't been admitted yet. In fact, she never arrived. Retracing the route turned up nothing, and they returned to headquarters seething with frustration.

Two hours later, the police found the ambulance five miles away, the driver shot dead and Lorelei and the paramedic missing.

"And there's our mole," Lisbon scowled after she hung up with Sacramento PD, looking around the bullpen. "We should have expected this. Dammit." She looked around. "Where's Jane?"

"He was here a minute ago," Rigsby said.

"Nobody goes anywhere alone," Lisbon ordered. "Red John may be getting ready to make his move, and his threats against me might be just a distraction from his real intention."

Rigsby looked worried. "I'll call Sarah and tell her to go stay with friends tonight."

"And be ready," Lisbon said as she headed for the stairs. "We won't have a lot of time once things start moving."

Jane hadn't spent much time in the attic since his return; he seemed to be enjoying their company after his extended absence, and she thought he was also updating his mental files. Six months was a long time, after all, and people could change. She wondered what he'd observed as she climbed the stairs.

The door was open; he was standing at the window, drumming his fingers against the sill. She could feel his nervous energy all the way across the room, and that was always a very bad sign. "We're sticking together from now on. No wandering off by yourself," she said.

"Red John's end game almost certainly involves the two of us. It might be wiser for us to stay as far from each other as possible," he said without turning.

"All right," she said, folding her arms, "who else will you listen to and not ditch at the first opportunity?"

He glanced at her over his shoulder. "Those are some high expectations, Lisbon. Are you implying that I will listen to you and not ditch you?"

"In this case, yes. Because I'm not going to let you do otherwise. And yes, I am packing a taser." When he didn't respond, she continued, "Jane, we need to be focused on Red John, not trying to protect each other."

He did turn around then, looking angry. "You're such a hypocrite, Lisbon. As if you haven't been trying to figure out scenarios to protect me, or at least prevent me from getting my revenge."

"And if it's not Red John we find, just another one of his friends? You'll never get away with that twice, Jane. We need to be able to prove he is the real Red John, and for that we're almost certainly going to need him alive. This is not just about you and what you want. There are other families out there who need closure. And I want to be able to sleep again without worrying I'll wake up to a madman with a knife."

"Red John is mine—"

"Of course he isn't, you selfish bastard," Lisbon snapped. "You think Van Pelt doesn't want revenge for O'Loughlin? That Rigsby's not terrified Red John will do to him what he did to you? Jane, this is bigger than you. And yes, we all want to see you get some kind of closure. Nobody is trying to keep you out of this. But you need to stop trying to keep us out. We have to stick together. We're what you have that he doesn't, remember?"

"People I care about who can be used to manipulate me, yes. It's quite an asset," he retorted sarcastically.

Lisbon's fists clenched, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. "I don't have time to argue this with you. They found the ambulance. There's no blood in it, so I want to go down to the jail and make sure they test the blood in her cell. This was either Red John risking her life to take advantage of an unexpected opportunity, or it was a well-laid plan that involved someone on the inside. Possibly on the medical staff."

"It would be useful to know which," he agreed after a moment. "All right. Let's go."

They barely spoke on the drive, and Lisbon told herself that she had to accept what Jane had been trying to make clear to her for years now: she was never going to argue him out of his intention to kill Red John, no matter how many good points she might make. She wished she could make him understand that he was putting them all in more danger, though, by dividing her attention between catching the serial killer and making sure Jane didn't do anything stupid.

"Don't worry about me, Lisbon," he said softly as she made the turn into the jail's parking lot. "I'm going to do what I need to do, and you can't stop me. It's better if you don't waste your time trying."

"I'm just curious," she said, "why you think I can't stop you. How far are you going to go, Jane? Will you hurt me? Kill me? Plant a post-hypnotic suggestion of some kind?"

"That last would definitely be my preference, if I'm ever in a position to implement it," he said, as calmly as if he were discussing the weather. "And if I have to step over your dead body to get to him, it'll be because I couldn't stop him. As for hurting you, well, we both know who would win if it comes down to a physical contest. But I know you, Lisbon. And I'm pretty sure that if I need to stop you for a second, I can find the right thing to say. Or the wrong thing, depending on your point of view."

She suddenly felt cold all over. Yes, if Jane ever tried to hurt her, it would be with words. And she had no doubt he'd succeed. Whether he could overcome all her training and experience long enough to achieve his goal was an open question, but the attempt would leave their relationship irrevocably scarred. Well, at least now she knew where she stood.

They were silent as they made their way to Lorelei's cell to stare at the stark pool of blood that had soaked into the thin mattress. Miscarriage or cunning escape plan, it was impossible to tell just by looking. If it was an escape plan, whoever had placed the blood hadn't made any obvious mistakes.

"We should look at the security cameras where they took her to the ambulance. Maybe you'd be able to tell if she was faking it," Lisbon suggested after a few minutes.

"Yes," he murmured, but he seemed in no hurry to move.

Just when Lisbon was getting ready to speak again, Jane's phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. Lisbon stepped closer and grabbed his wrist so she could see the text too.

_It's time to come home. Your family's waiting._


	12. Chapter 12: Conspiracy

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist and intend no infringement.

**Author's Note: **This chapter contains a scene I've been wanting to write since the beginning. I hope you enjoy reading it, because I certainly enjoyed writing it! And yes, we are getting close to the end. Thanks for hanging in there!

**Chapter Twelve: Conspiracy**

Lisbon grabbed Jane's arm and dragged him toward the door. She didn't lessen her grip as he started moving under his own power, but she used her other hand to grab her cell, dialing Cho. "Time to go," she said, then hung up.

Jane's phone buzzed again, and they paused to read the second message: _Bring Agent Lisbon. It's time we were formally introduced._

"Lisbon—" Jane began, sounding hoarse.

"Hush. Not here," she hissed. "Give me your phone so I can forward that to Cho."

When they were safely out of the jail, he dug in his heels, bringing them both to a stop. "Do you mind sharing your plan with me?" he asked sarcastically.

"I do, actually. At least until we're somewhere we can't be overheard." She tugged at his arm again, finally succeeding in getting him moving toward the car. She grabbed her keys in her free hand so he couldn't pick them out of her pocket, focusing on getting them both into the car and on their way. She could only hope he was too busy thinking to realize she'd slipped his phone into her jacket instead of returning it.

After she made a few turns, Jane protested, "You're going the wrong way. He obviously means for us to go to my house."

"We have to make a stop first. Jane, can you just, for once, try trusting me? How many times have I gone along with one of your plans without you telling me the whole story?" she demanded.

"It may have escaped your notice, but I am not nearly as forgiving as you," he grumbled.

"Or trusting," she snapped. "Despite the fact that I am not the one who threatened to use the nuclear option on our friendship not ten minutes ago."

He eyed her askance. "Are you trying a nuclear option of your own, Lisbon? You're not going to try to throw me in a cell somewhere while you run off to try to arrest Red John, are you? Because I have strong views about that."

"No, Jane, as tempting as that is, you are our biggest asset against Red John. If we're going to catch him, we need you. But since you and I have different goals here, I'm not going to let you call all the shots."

"Fair enough," he murmured, but she wasn't fooled into thinking it was a capitulation.

She slowed down when they reached the warehouse district along the river, looking for street numbers. When she spotted the right one, she turned in at its garage door and honked three times. The door opened, and she drove into the large space, empty except for another SUV and Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt.

"Secret meeting, I see," Jane said casually as they got out of the car. "You've been having them without me?"

"We ready to go?" Lisbon asked Cho.

"Yes," he replied. "It's all arranged."

"Good work," she told him, then turned to Jane, who'd come over to stand beside her. "You're with Cho."

"Not until you tell me what's going on," he retorted.

"There's no time. Cho will fill you in."

"And meanwhile, you will be doing what?"

"My job," she replied. She looked at him for a moment, trying to keep the sadness out of her expression. It was too bad that what might be their last conversation was full of threats and suspicion, but there was no more time. There was only one more thing she had to do here, and only one way she could think of to pull it off. The silver lining was that it also happened to be an item on her bucket list.

"Lisbon—" Jane began, but broke off as she grabbed his jacket lapels, tugged him forward, and kissed him for all she was worth.

She felt him stiffen with shock, and his hands landed on her shoulders. She was worried for a moment that he meant to push her away, but he seemed content to rest them there, neither pulling nor pushing. He was responding to her kiss hesitantly, and she could practically hear his brain humming as he tried to figure out what was going on.

She couldn't have that—she needed to kick his brain offline for a minute. She let go of his lapels and slid her hands down his vest, hooking her fingers into his pants pockets and pulling him against her. That did it—she could practically feel his brain fizz out as he pulled her into his arms and gave his full attention to the kiss, making her head spin with the intensity of it.

The kiss was everything she'd tried so hard never to let herself imagine, and she wished she wasn't in such a hurry. But she was already having trouble keeping her own brain operating, so finally she made herself step back, avoiding his attempt to recapture her mouth with his. "Good luck, Patrick," she said softly. She wanted to add the "love you" he'd given her, but she was too conscious of the team standing six feet away, so she laid her hand over his heart for a moment and thought it instead. By the way his eyes glowed above his slow smile, she knew he'd gotten the message.

She took a step back and turned abruptly to exchange nods with Cho, tossing him her keys as she walked past him. "Good luck," she said, glad that her voice was steady even though her knees felt shaky and her heart was still racing.

"You too, Boss," he said.

"See you on the other side," Rigsby called as he climbed into the driver's seat of the other vehicle. Van Pelt got in back, and Lisbon took shotgun. As the vehicle started moving, Lisbon looked back to see that Jane was standing where she'd left him with an expression of wonder and dawning puzzlement.

"Did you get everything?" Van Pelt asked.

Lisbon reached into her jacket and pulled out Jane's phone and the keys she'd lifted out of his pants pocket. "Yes. We're good to go."

mmm

"Let's go," Cho said when the other SUV had gone.

Jane blinked, shaking his head a little. "Where?"

"L.A. We're meeting an old buddy of mine. He owns a private security firm down there." Cho got into the driver's seat. "Didn't Lisbon fill you in?"

Jane climbed into the passenger seat and frowned. "No."

Cho's silence conveyed both disapproval and resignation as he started the vehicle and drove out of the warehouse. After a moment, he said, "Red John wants both you and Lisbon this time. But we're done doing what Red John wants. So you're not going."

Jane reached into his jacket pocket, then slammed his fist against the door. "Dammit, she didn't give me my phone back! Give me yours—I have to talk to her!"

"No phones," Cho said. "Nothing that can be traced."

Jane patted his pockets, puzzled and annoyed. "I've dropped my keys somewhere."

"No you didn't. Lisbon took them while she was trying to suck your face off."

Jane wasn't often shocked; Cho made a mental note of what it looked like. "Lisbon picked my pocket?"

"You were gone a long time. We divided up your skillset. Lisbon picks pockets; Rigsby learned hypnotism; and Van Pelt says rude or inappropriate things to see how people react."

"Really?" Jane said, with both suspicion and astonishment.

"No," Cho replied.

Jane let his head fall against the headrest, gritting his teeth. "Tell me the plan, Cho. Right now, or I swear I'm jumping out of this car."

"Don't be stupid," Cho said. "Here's the thing: Red John isn't going to be where he told you to go. He never is. He likes to watch from a distance, so we figure he'll have some kind of setup at your house, with some of his disciples there to do what he tells them. But he'll be using a webcam or a cellphone or some other electronic means for picture and/or sound. Like at Tanner's house, or the phone on Wainwright. So we're going to trace where the device is sending, and track him down that way."

"And Lisbon's job?"

"She's going to spring the trap and keep him occupied to give us time to do the trace. Rigsby and Van Pelt will go in and get her if it gets too risky."

"So she took my phone in case Red John's friends in the FBI are tracking it, and my keys to get into the house quietly," Jane guessed. "Cho, this is insane!"

"It's not what you would do," Cho said.

"No, it's not!"

"Then it's not what Red John expects us to do. Your job is to help me anticipate what Red John will do when we go in after him. That will depend on where he's at. So you want to stick with me, Jane. I'm taking you right to him. But Lisbon ordered me to make sure you don't put your hand on a weapon once we get close."

"Red John needs killing," Jane said in a dangerously quiet voice. "He has friends all over law enforcement—we've only found a few of them over the years. If we arrest him, who's to say he won't escape from jail before he can get to trial? He got Lorelei out. And even if we manage to bring him to trial, who's to say he can't buy or threaten the jury or the judge? He's too well connected. The justice system would just be a detour for him. He'd probably enjoy letting us think we'd won, only to escape back to his old life. And then—then, Cho, he'd want to make an example out of us. All of us. He'd probably start with Rigsby's son—"

"Stop," Cho said firmly. "I get your point, Jane. But if I agree with you, and we take Red John down, that becomes conspiracy to commit murder. You may be ready to spend the rest of your life in prison, but I'm not. So shut up. Please."

Jane subsided for a moment, then said, "How long do you think Lisbon can distract him without getting hurt? He told Lorelei to cut off two of my fingers, Cho! What's her plan?"

"She didn't tell me. But he's interested in her, so that gets her a few minutes. Hell, they'll probably talk about you the whole time."

Jane looked like the idea was making his skin crawl, and Cho couldn't blame him. "There's probably napkins in the glove compartment," he remarked.

Jane frowned. "And you feel I need to know this because?"

"Because you're wearing way too much lip gloss."

Jane rubbed a finger across his mouth and stared down at the shiny pink smudge left there for several moments. Then he looked out the window and asked, "So your old buddy—old Army buddy, yes?—is going to help us do what?"

"Loan us some equipment and manpower. We couldn't risk tipping our hand by going through official channels. And we'll need some high-powered gear for the trace and a geek to run it. Lisbon wanted me to take Van Pelt, but I told her it'd be better to have someone with experience on the equipment." Cho glanced at Jane. "I had to convince her she needed backup more than I did. I promised her you would live through this, and I keep my promises."

"Comforting," Jane said, sounding anything but comforted. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, but Cho wasn't fooled. Jane was way too tense to be resting; he was trying to come up with a plan. Cho could only hope it was about helping him find Red John and not disrupting their plan so he could substitute his own.

mmm

Lisbon hadn't thought she would be able to sleep during the drive, but she was so exhausted that sometime during the six hours, she managed it. When she woke up, they were stuck in traffic.

"I hate L.A.," Rigsby grumbled.

"We're not really in L.A.," Van Pelt pointed out. "And I told you, I'd drive for a while if you'd let me. Maybe you could get a nap in."

"Hey, I'm the father of a toddler. Sleep-deprived is my natural state," he said. "Too much sleep might actually be a problem."

Lisbon stretched her neck to work the kinks out. "I don't think any of us is in danger of that. How far out are we?"

Van Pelt wrestled with the paper map for a moment; they'd turned off their cell phones (except for Jane's, which wasn't a smartphone), so they were reduced to navigating without GPS assistance. "Um, about twenty miles, it looks like. But there's no telling what the traffic's like."

Lisbon turned on the radio and scanned until she found a traffic report. "We're good after we pass the accident about a mile ahead," she said after listening for a while.

She glanced down at Jane's phone, but no messages or calls had come in. Red John must be aware of the driving time between Sacramento and Los Angeles, she thought. He wouldn't be expecting them quite yet, and he'd given himself plenty of time to lay his trap. Hopefully he wouldn't be expecting Cho's buddy, who'd gotten there hours ago, either.

"Boss," Van Pelt said softly, "what are you going to say in there?"

Lisbon had been wondering that herself. "I have some ideas," she said. "But I'll need to play it by ear, see what he reacts to. I may need to get a little out there, so don't worry about anything you hear. Except the code phrase, of course."

The rest of the drive went smoothly; they found the state park they were looking for and navigated to the trailhead that was the pre-arranged meeting place. A large black van was waiting for them.

"Davidson," the man who got out of the van introduced himself. "That's Connell in the driver's seat. You must be Lisbon?"

"Yes. Rigsby and Van Pelt," Lisbon introduced her team by nodding at them in turn. "Everything set?"

"Yes. We've got surveillance all set up; looks like three people in 've got wifi set up, and we're tapped in, but it's not sending yet so we can't start the trace. You all set?"

Lisbon reached into the SUV and grabbed her bulletproof vest. "I just need to get wired up," she said. "They'll take it off me once I'm in, but they'll be expecting me to wear one. You've got audio?"

"Yes. We'll be able to hear you. We got there first and set a few things up," Davidson replied. "Don't worry," he added at her expression. "We didn't go in the house, or even very close to it, just in case. Looks deserted, so it'd be easy for anybody to set up cameras or anything they needed."

And that was the problem, Lisbon reflected; Red John had had plenty of time to turn Jane's house into one big soundstage if that's what he wanted to do. They had to keep their distance to remain undetected. "And the three people?"

"Judging from size, looks like two men and one woman."

"Right. We have to assume the woman is Lorelei Martins. She's almost certainly still pregnant, or she'd be in a hospital, so we have to watch our fire. Do not fire in her direction unless you have no other choice, and shoot only to disarm."

Rigsby and Van Pelt looked unhappy; those orders put Lisbon in significantly more danger than they'd hoped. But she was firm. She'd meant it when she told Jane she wouldn't choose to live at the cost of a child's life, and that didn't change whether its father was a serial killer or her best friend.

"All right," Lisbon said, tugging on her vest to adjust it. "Let's do this."


	13. Chapter 13: The Choice

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist and intend no infringement.

**Author's Note: **I'm so glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter! Your reviews lit my way through this dark, scary part of the story. It was way harder to write than the last bit, which explains the delay in posting. But I've got a grip on it now so I'm still on track to finish before Sunday!

**Chapter Thirteen: The Choice**

"Bravo team's in position," Dolman reported. "Going in."

Cho turned to watch the nearest screen, relieved when Jane stopped pacing behind him and came to watch as well. The semi-darkened room they were sharing with Cho's buddy Martell and his three employees (not to mention all the screens and computer equipment) was far too small for anyone to start bouncing off the walls without causing damage.

They had actual live images of Lisbon as she approached the house cautiously, but after she disappeared inside they had to rely on heat signatures. The three people awaiting Lisbon were all upstairs, but she swept the ground floor carefully before climbing the stairs, so they had plenty of time to watch and worry. Jane was breathing hard, and Cho reflected that it must be a curse to be able to picture exactly what was happening in there.

"They've started streaming," Walker murmured. "Initiating trace."

mmm

Of course they were upstairs, Lisbon thought to herself. In the room with that damn smiley face and only one exit, where Jane's life had changed forever. She hoped any change that happened in that room tonight would be a good one. She hoped Cho was keeping a close eye on him. She hoped Jane was playing it smart and working their plan, though she thought there was a pretty good chance Cho had been forced to handcuff him and lock him in the car instead. Maybe that would be better after all; she could only imagine how tense and anxious Jane would be watching her walk into this trap meant for them both.

The door at the top of the stairs was closed. Lisbon paused, listening, but heard nothing from the other side other than a faint creak, as if someone had shifted their weight. She took a deep breath, then turned the doorknob, kicking the door open and springing to one side of it to avoid any shooting. But only silence resulted, and finally she had to admit that there was no alternative to walking into that room, no matter how badly her instincts and training were screaming at her to run the other way and come back with a small army.

Sure enough, the first thing she saw was a large man with a gun pointed right at her; the second came up behind her and briskly disarmed her, then pulled off her vest and wire. When she was helpless and handcuffed, they shoved her onto the floor facing a laptop, and Lorelei came to stand beside it, smiling.

"Why, Agent Lisbon, how nice of you to come. Patrick's running late?"

"Lorelei. Nice to see you up and around. We were worried about you and the baby," Lisbon replied.

"No need to worry. We're both well. Where's Patrick?"

"I had him taken into protective custody," Lisbon said, which was, after all, a kind of truth.

"You're only making things worse for yourself," Lorelei said pityingly, shaking her head.

"Lorelei, you can stop this, right here and now," Lisbon said in her best talk-the-suspect-off-a-ledge voice. "If you help me, you can walk away from all this, give your child the life he deserves. The life you both deserve."

Lorelei laughed. "But the life we will have is so much better than I deserve. There is nothing you can offer me to make me betray my lord and master. If you weren't so blinded by your own prejudices, you might even join us on our path, instead of pursuing your own destruction. You and Patrick both."

Lisbon asked, "Is there anything I can do that would make Red John leave him alone?"

Lorelei smiled down at the laptop. The screen remained disconcertingly blank, but Lisbon heard the hiss of speakers coming to life. "Agent Lisbon," said a strangely high-pitched male voice. "I am delighted to finally meet you. Welcome."

"That's a strange thing to say, since this isn't your house," Lisbon remarked.

"But in a way, this house _is_ mine. I have left my mark on it, after all. For as long as it stands, it will be known for what I did in it. Why else would I choose to meet here? If this were truly Patrick's home, would I have given him the advantage of choosing his territory? This is merely his prison now. So, he will not be joining us, then? You surely must have known there would be a price to be paid for disobedience."

"I don't know," Lisbon said honestly. "Jane can usually get out of places he doesn't want to be. He might be a few minutes behind me, or he might not be coming at all."

"You surprise me, Agent Lisbon. May I dispense with the formalities and call you Teresa?"

"Only if you give me a name in return," she replied.

"But I have so many; it is difficult to choose a favorite. Why don't you simply call me John."

"All right, John. What is it you want from Jane and me? What will it take to stop this twisted game you're playing with us?"

"I told him what it would take, but he refused my gift."

"It wasn't a gift," Lisbon retorted. "You tried to sell him a new life at the price of mine. That was too much to pay. What amazes me is that you didn't know that. You've watched him all these years, and you still don't really know him."

"I could make the same argument about you, Teresa. Perhaps he would not buy his life at the cost of yours, but I wonder if he would buy my death at that price? You have thought it yourself, haven't you: that my death is more important to him than his life or yours. In the end it is the only thing that matters to him, no matter how many touching moments you may have shared along the way."

Lisbon swallowed and looked down. "Yes. He told me that if he had to, he would step over my dead body to get to you." Which wasn't exactly what he'd said, but close enough. She looked up again and added, "Which is why he isn't here. I'm the one you're dealing with now. What is it you want?"

"Why, for poor Patrick to stop torturing himself by thinking he will ever have the opportunity to kill me. To give up his foolish quest. To accept that this is not a just world, and that only those of us who make our own rules ever truly succeed. He would be such an asset to my work, as you can no doubt attest."

"He would succeed at anything he really put his mind to," Lisbon agreed. "But he doesn't see any challenge in killing. It's too easy. You must agree with him, or he'd have been dead a long time ago. Were you disappointed when he didn't go to prison for killing Timothy Carter?"

The laugh that came out of the speakers was chilling. "Disappointed? I was delighted! Such a rare display of cunning, calculation, and manipulation. It must have worried you just a little, even as you welcomed him back into the fold."

"No," she said. "It was only when I realized you were still alive that I got worried. Because really, this game isn't between you and him, is it? He's the battlefield, but it's you and I who are fighting the war. You try to tear him apart, and I try to hold him together."

"That is a very interesting view of the situation, Teresa. Do you really see yourself as my opponent?"

"Of course. I'm the one whose job it is to catch you. Jane is helping me, not the other way around."

"In the eyes of the law, perhaps. But anyone who knows the two of you knows that you rarely bend him to your will, whereas he can persuade you into astonishing acts of self-sacrifice. Do you think for a moment that he'd sacrifice anything for you? Oh, yes, I know he's gone to great lengths to see that you keep your job, but that is merely him manipulating people to achieve his own ends. You are useful to him, and I've no doubt he's fond of you, as much as a man that broken can be. But he will never be the person you see when you look at him."

Lisbon looked down. That hit a little too close to home, she had to admit.

"I would invite you to join me, because really, you do interest me," Red John continued. "But your sense of morality, backed by the fairytale religion you cling to, blinds you. You can never see the truth, because you don't want to."

"You keep telling yourself that," Lisbon said, "but in a way, I think you're a little jealous of Jane. Because you can only attract the weak-minded and the damaged, but he has the loyalty of good, strong people who've chosen to help him instead of being manipulated into it. He knows that. That's why he'll always see your tricks for what they are. He knows Lorelei's child isn't his."

"But it could be," Red John said. "Whether or not he had any part in the child's conception, I am still willing to give him the gift of fatherhood again. Who wouldn't want to experience that, especially once they have treasured and lost it?"

"He doesn't need you for that," Lisbon said. An idea came to her, and her nerves began to jangle as she wondered if she could pull it off. "That's why I'm here."

"I'm afraid I don't follow you, Teresa."

"I know you're not going to stop your little game just because I ask you to. I know there'll be a price, and it's probably a price Jane won't want to pay. But there's something you don't know."

"By all means, tell me. I am surprised by very few things anymore."

"I'm pregnant too. And this really is Jane's child."

Red John laughed. "You forget how closely I've been watching, Teresa. Despite what you've told Lorelei, I know that you and Patrick are not lovers."

"That night he pretended to shoot me, emotions were running high. We—we got carried away. We agreed afterward that it was too dangerous, that we had to pretend it never happened. I only found out a few days ago that wasn't going to be possible." She smirked at Lorelei. "Poor Lorelei. Outdone again."

"I can fix that," Lorelei said, reaching over to the windowsill and picking up a long, serrated knife.

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?" Lisbon asked the laptop reasonably. "Because I'm the key to your heart's desire. You want to make Jane one of your disciples? You need better bait. He chose me once before; he'll choose me and our child if you ask him again. Especially if I help you persuade him."

"And you would do this?" Red John scoffed.

"To save my child's life? Yes. What mother wouldn't?"

mmm

Cho glanced at Jane, but the consultant didn't look stunned or worried. He was grinning instead. "I can't believe he bought that," Jane explained when he noticed he had Cho's attention.

"Yeah, very funny," Cho said, "except if you're not coming, how's she going to get him to keep buying it? Martell, where's that damn trace?"

"He's bounced it off half a dozen servers that we've found so far. Including CBI's. We'll get it, but it's going to take some time."

"She's getting it for us," Jane murmured, nodding to himself.

mmm

"There is just one problem with your proposal," Red John pointed out. "Patrick isn't here for either of us to persuade."

"Let me have my wire back. I'll have him brought here," Lisbon said.

"No," Red John mused. "Because you see, I don't quite believe you. And of course you must have some prior arrangement with your unit, some word or phrase that will bring them storming in. I'm enjoying our little chat far too much to end it so soon. But I think you are lying to me, and there are consequences for that. Lorelei, you may begin. Remember the rules."

"I remember," Lorelei said, running a finger along the side of the knife's blade. "Not too deep. Yet."

mmm

Jane and Cho listened in grim silence. Lisbon didn't make a sound, and they couldn't hear the knife against flesh. It was only when Lorelei said, "There. A nice straight line. It's a pity you won't live long enough for it to scar."

"Nicely done, Lorelei," Red John said. "Teresa, I'm sure, does not appreciate your handiwork properly, however. Do you, Teresa?"

Lisbon's voice was steady but hoarse. "Go to hell, both of you."

"I think this calls for a special touch," Red John said. "Do you have enough blood to do it, Lorelei, or do you need to cut her again?"

"I need more," Lorelei said eagerly.

This time there was a slight moan from Lisbon, quickly choked off. Then Lorelei said, "Look; I've been practicing. See how well I do it." They heard her take several steps, and then there was an odd sound like a hand rubbing a wall.

"She's painted a smiley face," Jane murmured in horror. "For Lisbon. In her blood."

Cho turned to the others. "Where the hell's that trace?"

"Still working on it."

mmm

Lisbon focused on the laptop, trying to ignore the burning cuts on her abdomen and the blood seeping into her shirt. She had to hang on until Red John was no longer online, which hopefully would mean that Cho and Jane had him.

"If you expect me to beg for mercy, you're going to be disappointed," she gritted out.

"No, I don't expect that," Red John said. "Your death isn't for my own gratification, after all. It's meant to make a point for Patrick. Imagine how he will feel to walk into this room and find my mark no longer faded with time, but fresh and new. Do you think he'll cry over you? Lose his mind again? Or do you think he's gotten so used to my work now that he will take it in stride, just another corpse?" Red John paused, then said, "Of course, I suppose it's possible you're telling the truth, and that this will be a delicious reprise of the last visit I paid him, except that he'll only have memories of one of you."

"I could cut her deeper and see," Lorelei offered.

"Not yet, my dear. You mustn't rush the process. True art requires patience and diligence."

mmm

"Where's the trace?" Jane demanded, pacing the three steps the small room allowed, his fists clenching and unclenching. "We don't have much more time. Lisbon doesn't have much more time."

"Lisbon knows what she's doing. She'll give the code phrase before she's in serious danger." Cho knew he didn't sound convincing.

"And if she doesn't? If she's too damn stubborn to give up?" Jane asked. "This isn't going to work, Cho!"

"Dammit, Martell, you have to be getting close," Cho said, turning to where Dolman and Walker were furiously working their keyboards.

"We are. Just hold on a few more minutes," Martell replied.

When Cho turned back around, Jane was gone. Cho started for the door, but stopped as Dolman gave a victory whoop. "Got it! Five miles southeast of here."

"Let's move," Martell ordered.

When they got out to the parking lot, Jane was nowhere in sight, and neither was the CBI vehicle. Cho realized his keys were gone too. "Goddammit," he muttered.

"Do you want to go after him? Split up?" Martell asked.

Cho scowled, then shook his head. "No. I know where he went. We stick to the plan. But let bravo team know he's coming their way."


	14. Chapter 14: Endgame

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist, but my birthday's coming soon, so I've got my fingers crossed!

**Author's Note:** Right, like you're wasting time reading this. :)

**Chapter Fourteen: Endgame**

Crouched in the back of the surveillance van, Van Pelt glanced at Davidson as he held a hand to his earpiece and frowned. "Your man Jane's on the loose," he said. "They're leaving it to us whether to intercept."

Van Pelt and Rigsby looked at each other. It was sheer hell listening to Lisbon being tortured in there, but she hadn't given the code phrase, and until she did that or Red John was taken into custody, this plan was still in action. Adding Jane to the mix was risky, but it would almost certainly buy them time.

"No," Rigsby said, when he was sure they were in agreement. "Let him do whatever he's planning to do. It might not be safe, but it'll be distracting."

"That's for sure," Van Pelt murmured.

"Alpha team's en route," Davidson added. "They'll let us know when they've confirmed the target's location. Get ready to move."

mmm

"Lisbon!"

The shout rang through the house, followed by footsteps pounding up the stairs. Lorelei was startled enough that she let the knife slip, her cry of frustration joining Lisbon's cry of pain.

Jane came to a sudden halt on the threshold of the room, transfixed by the freshly painted smiley face now obscuring the one he'd lived with for so long. He paled, looking like he might be sick at any moment, and swayed slightly.

Lisbon fought through the pain, not even caring that her shirt was hanging open where Lorelei had sliced into her chest. "Jane," she said, her voice wavering. She swallowed and tried again, this time pushing the sharp edge of command into it. "Jane!"

He turned toward her blindly, then blinked and seemed to take in the situation. Lisbon wanted to slump in relief; she needed him thinking clearly if they were going to make it out of here alive. But she held herself upright, trying to project the strength he'd need from her.

"Lisbon," he said, sounding dazed. The two armed men quickly frisked him, surprised at finding neither a weapon nor a wire. He tried to wrench himself free of their grasp without success.

"What are you doing here?" Lisbon demanded.

"I was invited," Jane retorted. "Remember?" His jaw set angrily as he quickly catalogued her injuries. Then he looked at Lorelei, eyes narrowing.

"You're late, lover," Lorelei said. "Should we handcuff him?"

"Not yet," Red John said. "Let him go, but watch him carefully. I've looked forward to this, Patrick. I'm so glad you chose not to disappoint me."

"Let her go," Jane said, taking a step toward Lisbon and the laptop. "This is between you and me."

"Ah, but Teresa has made some interesting points. She tells me she is my actual opponent, while you are merely the rope we are using in our game of tug-of-war."

"And here I thought we were playing chess," Jane said.

"Where, as you know, the queen is the most powerful piece on the board," Red John reflected. "Perhaps you are right. But I've cornered yours with mine. So now what will you do?"

Jane swallowed hard. "Resign the game. What else can I do? You have us both. I'll do whatever you ask if you'll just let her live."

"Really? I am not sure I believe you," Red John said thoughtfully.

"Try me," Jane said. "Let her go. As long as she's safe, I'll do whatever you like."

"Jane," Lisbon protested softly.

"What choice do I have?" he snapped, not looking at her. "You always warned me this would end in disaster. This is the only choice left that I can live with."

"You would never give up so easily," Red John said.

"Easily?" Jane's voice thickened with emotion. "She's the best thing in my whole sorry life, and she's bleeding to death in front of me. You think this is easy?"

"I think it is another of your ruses," Red John replied. "To get close to me with the intention of killing me."

"No," Jane said, shaking his head. "Do you want me to prove it? Because I would rather kill myself than watch her die. Is that what you want?"

"No, not especially. I might still accept you as one of my disciples if I could be sure you truly meant it."

"What do you want me to do to prove it?" Jane asked. "Kill someone? I will, anyone but Lisbon. Just tell me."

"Jane," Lisbon said warningly. Then she raised her voice. "Don't do it," she advised Red John. "He makes a terrible employee. He'll take all your orders as suggestions. You'll send him out to talk to someone only to find out he's gone to the fruit stand instead because he thinks you need more fiber in your diet. You'll send him out for coffee and he'll come back with ice cream, all melted because he stopped in the park to watch children blowing bubbles." Tears welled up as she thought of all the times Jane had surprised and exasperated her, all those little moments of delight she had tried so hard to conceal. "You won't be able to control him, any more than I ever could."

"Even with your life at stake?"

"I won't live like that," Lisbon said. "Jane, I won't. Look at me. You know I'm telling the truth. I'm your supervisory agent, and I'm responsible for your actions. I'm not going to be responsible for this."

"Lisbon, there's no other way. Would you just follow my lead? How often have I led you astray?"

"You led us here," she said, so quietly he could barely hear her.

He shook his head. "You led us here," he replied, "trying to outwit me. Now I'm getting us out. Or at least getting you out." He looked back at the screen. "Tell me what you want. We don't have all night, you know." When there was not an immediate response, Jane continued, "Or have I finally succeeded in doing something you didn't expect? You thought this would play out some other way? Why? It's the obvious thing. You know I care about Lisbon; that was why you made her the price of the new life you dangled in front of me. It would have worked if you hadn't been greedy, if you'd offered to leave her alone and never go near the CBI again. I would have joined you for that."

"All my disciples must complete their initiation rite. You failed yours."

"I don't have enough blood on my hands?" Jane asked incredulously. "What about Tanner? Or Timothy Carter?"

"You had no intent to kill Tanner," Red John replied. "You were merely playing the hero, an act of self-indulgence that is unacceptable to me. And Timothy Carter goaded you into killing him, so you get no credit for that either. No, I made the right decision about you. As much as I've enjoyed toying with you while I chose how to end our game, the time has come. You see, you've made one fatal miscalculation, Patrick."

"And what is that?" Jane asked.

"I don't give second chances. I've arranged that you will never leave that house alive. The only question I had not yet decided was whether Teresa would serve as your successor. I think with your death to inspire her, she might prove more of a challenge. What do you think?"

Jane glanced at the two guns pointed at him, then at Lorelei, who was smiling, the knife dangling carelessly at her side and dripping Lisbon's blood on the carpet. Then, finally, he looked at Lisbon, holding her gaze as he said, "She tricked me so she could get here ahead of me. It was a pretty ruthless trick too, worthy of a cold-hearted pro. I think she'll give you a good run for your money. I've certainly found her a challenge." He looked away and asked in a more casual tone, "Out of curiosity, what death do you have planned for me? Are you going to have Lorelei cut me up? That's a bit black widow, don't you think?"

"I thought long and hard about that," Red John said. "It was tempting to give you the death I gave your wife, so you could put to rest all your questions about what she felt that night. But that would only satisfy me if I could do it myself, and I'm well aware that your friends are waiting nearby. They're probably trying to trace my location as we speak, but they won't succeed. Even if they did, the moment I feel myself in danger, I will release the switch I'm holding and the house will go up in flames around you. You will have a few minutes to contemplate your death before the smoke overcomes you. I think I will let you share those last few moments with your only friend, Patrick. With any luck, she will die before you so you can watch."

mmm

Davidson swore into his microphone, then said, "Alpha team, be advised: the subject has a dead man's switch. There are explosives in the house."

"We need to go. Now," Rigsby said, sliding into the driver's seat. Van Pelt took shotgun, while Davidson and Connell stayed to monitor the equipment.

"What do we do?" Van Pelt murmured anxiously.

"Get them the hell out of there and hope Cho gets to Red John in time." Rigsby stomped on the accelerator and sent the van hurtling off the shoulder and down the road. "And call for firefighters, but tell them no sirens."

mmm

"A bomb? Isn't that a little gauche? I mean, you don't need a bomb to kill two people. You have enough firepower in here to do it," Jane said, seeming more curious than alarmed. "And what about Lorelei? Does she get burned up too? What about the baby?"

"They will leave first, of course. That baby is my heir. One of the reasons I have decided to end our game is because it is time to turn my energies to the next generation. Lorelei, you may go now."

Lorelei nodded to the two men. One of them grabbed Jane and slapped a handcuff on his wrist, then pushed him to his knees, threading the cuffs though a ring set in the wall before cuffing his other hand. The other man did the same to Lisbon, who couldn't stifle a cry of pain as she was dragged to the wall a few feet from Jane. Then they left without a word.

Lisbon heard the three sets of footsteps on the stairs, and then the front door opening and closing. She couldn't tell whether Red John was still listening, but they had to assume he was. "So?" she said. "What's your brilliant plan for getting us out of here?"

Jane grimaced. "I'm working on it. Don't worry, we have some time. If he wants us to die slowly, he won't blow up this part of the house." He tugged experimentally at the wall, but the ring was evidently set in a stud, because it didn't shift even a little. Lisbon did the same with hers, but found the same result. "Although maybe the bomb is a last resort, because I'm smelling smoke."

"Me too," Lisbon said. Lorelei or one of the others must have set a fire on their way out. She hoped Rigsby and Van Pelt were on their guard and rounding them up, not thinking about running into a burning house. She couldn't give the code phrase and put them in danger too. "And I think I hear it."

Jane looked at the open door, where smoke was beginning to drift in. Then he turned back to her. "Lisbon," he said, "look at me."

She did. It wasn't a hardship, after all—she'd always loved his beautiful eyes. And if he wanted to hypnotize her to make their deaths easier, she was ready to let him.

"Relax and listen to my voice. I wish I could take all the pain away, that you could feel it flowing out of your body and away from you. Focus on that, on all the pain leaving your body. You don't feel it anymore. You're feeling calm and relaxed and there is no way any pain can reach you now."

Lisbon felt the trance taking hold, and let it. No pain sounded like a very good idea. If she wasn't hurting, maybe there was something she could do. Jane's voice was so calm and soothing, even though he must be terrified. If only there were something she could do for him, she thought wistfully.

"Even if you make a sudden movement, nothing will hurt," Jane was continuing. "Even if you were to start tugging on the handcuffs so hard that you dislocate your thumb so you can slide your hand through, it won't hurt a bit."

_Of course_, Lisbon thought. That was what she should be doing. She shouldn't have needed Jane to tell her that. She moved her hand into what she thought was the best position and then pulled with all her strength.

"Ow! God, you're such a liar!" she yelped a moment later, holding her damaged left hand against her and wincing at the fiery pain where she'd pulled at the cuts.

"Just relax. Breathe. Raise your arm and breathe through your shirt," Jane said, then broke off to cough. The smoke was getting dense, and Lisbon knew she didn't have time to waste. She started crawling toward him on her knees and one hand, slowly and in agony.

"Lisbon, listen to me. You're going to keep going, out the door and down the stairs and out of the house."

"Like hell I am," she muttered. "Shut up, Jane."

"I can help you. Just listen to me—" he broke off again, coughing.

She finally reached him and got herself into a sitting position, hissing in pain.

"Lisbon, look at me. You're going to get yourself out of here, and you're going to find Red John. And when you do, you'll kill him for me, won't you?"

"Do we have to have this argument again now?" she demanded testily, bringing one foot around in front of her and trying to ignore how the movement was making more blood seep out of her abdomen.

"Yes. Because you're going to live through this," he said, almost managing his soothing tone again. "And live a long, happy life, catching criminals and keeping people in line. And when you think of me, you'll smile," he added, his voice thickening, "because you believe in an afterlife and you know I've always loved your smile. You'll think of me watching over you and smiling when you smile."

She wasn't sure if her eyes were watering because of the smoke or the image he was creating in her head. "Shut up, Jane," she said again, as firmly as she could. "I know what I'm doing."

"Boss!" came Rigsby's shout, followed by coughing.

"Get the hell out of here!" she shouted back.

"The stairs are on fire! We're trying to get in through the window at the back! Go there!" he responded.

"Go on, Lisbon," Jane urged.

She finally managed to get hold of her right shoe and tug it off. Her handcuff key fell out of it.

"Lisbon," Jane said, sounding surprised.

"You think I'm stupid enough to walk into a trap unprepared?" she muttered, scooting over to the wall so she could reach the handcuffs.

The minute he was free, he scrambled to his feet and slid his arms beneath hers, lifting her as gently as he could manage. Kicking the bedroom door shut, he helped her over to the window and then tried to push it open. It stuck, and he pounded on it to try to loosen it.

"Too bad you can't hypnotize that," Lisbon said, leaning wearily against the wall. She was weak and dizzy from blood loss and pain, and part of her wanted to curl up on the floor. The other part wanted to kick Jane for neglecting the maintenance of this house he kept but didn't really live in.

"Keep it up," Jane panted, shoving at the window again. "I won't worry about you until you start being nice to me."

"Ha ha," she breathed, then coughed, causing a wave of agony to crash over her. A moment later she heard glass shattering, and then Jane was guiding her over to the window to a new set of hands. Getting through the window onto the ladder was so painful that she fainted halfway through.

mmm

She came to in the back of an ambulance, with Van Pelt looking at her anxiously while a paramedic taped bandages across her chest. "Boss?"

Lisbon tried to answer, but had a coughing fit instead. It didn't hurt quite as much as before, she realized. She gestured with her good hand for Van Pelt to report.

"We got Jane out too," Van Pelt said, knowing that's what she'd want to hear first. "You're going to need a lot of stitches, I'm afraid. We're keeping clear of the house in case the bomb—"

The explosion shook the ground, and Van Pelt put a hand on Lisbon's shoulder to keep her from sliding off the gurney.

"Where's Jane?" Lisbon croaked.

"He was here a minute ago," Van Pelt said, looking around. "We got Lorelei and her muscle, don't worry."

Rigsby jogged over, grinning. "We got Red John! I just talked to Cho. Once they knew we were clear, they rushed him."

"Alive?" Lisbon asked.

"He had a gun," Rigsby said. "He shot one of the guys, and they all fired back. They don't think he'll make it."

"Good," Van Pelt murmured.

"Where's Jane?" Lisbon asked again. "Van Pelt, go find him. Don't let him out of your sight."

"Don't you need me to go to the hospital with you?" she asked.

"No, I'm fine. Find Jane!"

"You got it, Boss. Don't worry!" Van Pelt said, hopping out of the ambulance.

"We got this, Boss," Rigsby assured her. "You go get stitched up."

Lisbon nodded. "Hey, Rigs: good work. All of you."

He grinned at her. "You did the hard part!"

No, she thought as she lay back and closed her eyes. The hard part was probably still to come.


	15. Chapter 15: Aftermath

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist and am certainly not making any money off this.

**Author's Note:** Almost there! Thank you so much to all of you who keep reviewing—I'd make a list, but I don't want to accidentally leave anybody out. You know who you are. And you are fabulous!

**Chapter Fifteen: Aftermath**

The sun was setting over the ocean when Van Pelt finally located Jane about a quarter of a mile away, sitting on a slight rise where he could see the smoking ruins of his house as well as the spectacular sunset. He didn't turn his head as she approached, his only movement a restless fiddling with his wedding ring. She hesitated, knowing he probably needed some time to digest what had happened. But then she thought of Lisbon's anxious face and called, "Jane."

"Go away, Grace." His voice was still gravelly from the smoke.

"Lisbon's asking for you. And I don't want her checking out of the hospital to come back here and look for you," she replied. Now that she was closer, she could see a tear track glistening on the cheek facing her.

"Is she all right?" His tone was distant, like he was asking about the weather. Van Pelt thought he might be in shock, but it wouldn't do any good to say so. Jane always wanted you to believe he was in control of himself—and everybody else, she thought.

"She's going to need a lot of stitches. And what did she do to her hand?" Get him talking, she told herself.

"She broke it getting out of the cuffs."

He sounded matter of fact, but she wasn't fooled. She could see the tension in his hunched posture, and she knew he wanted nothing more than for her to go away and leave him alone. "I'll bring you back here," Van Pelt offered. "She just needs to see you're all right. I won't—we don't have to talk if you don't want to." Because she of all people knew that talking about it didn't always help.

Jane drew in a deep breath, then got slowly to his feet and gestured for her to precede him. She did, checking over her shoulder to make sure he was following. That prompted him to summon up a ghastly attempt at a grin for her benefit, so she turned back around and kept track of him with her ears instead.

Her cell phone rang as they got closer to where the vehicles were parked, and she answered it immediately. "Van Pelt."

Cho said, "The bastard's dead. I can't get hold of either Lisbon or Jane—what's going on there?"

"Lisbon went to the hospital, but Jane's here with me. We're headed to see her, so I'll let them both know."

"Okay," Cho replied.

"Hey, Cho," she said before he could hang up.

"Yeah?"

Van Pelt fought back a rush of emotion, an ugly mix of triumph and old hurt and cold rage. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

When she hung up the phone, she needed a second to swallow down all those feelings before turning to Jane. "Red John's dead."

He swallowed, keeping his gaze on the ground. After a second, he nodded.

"Aren't you glad? I am," she said fiercely.

"I promised myself I'd be the one to kill him," Jane said quietly. "And if I'd waited just a few more minutes, I could have been. I'll always hate myself for that."

"If you'd waited, Lisbon might not have made it," Van Pelt pointed out.

"I know. And I can't be sorry that I did what I did. I'll always hate myself for that too."

She frowned at him. "Then you're just looking for reasons to hate yourself. We're a team, Jane. Cho pulled that trigger for all of us. I feel just as happy, just as revenged, as if I'd done it myself. We were all in it together."

He shook his head. "I've never been much of a team player, Grace."

They started walking again, and a few minutes later, Jane murmured, "I'm glad you got your revenge, though. You deserve it."

"You got your revenge too, Jane. I'm sorry it's not how you wanted it. But he's gone, and he'll never hurt anybody again. In the end, isn't that what matters most?"

He didn't respond, and she fell silent. She wasn't the one he needed to talk to, she knew.

mmm

Lisbon tried to control her temper as she argued with the nurse. All those stitches hurt, and her hand would be immobilized for a while, but really, she was fine. Her team needed her, and she needed to know what was happening.

"We can't just call you a cab. You'll need assistance," the nurse repeated. "Isn't there anyone you can call?"

"I don't have my cell phone," Lisbon said. She hadn't seen any reason to carry it into the house with her; it was still in the car somewhere. She supposed she could call CBI and get someone to relay the message, or—

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of red in the doorway. "Van Pelt!" But her relief turned to dread instantly. "Where's Jane?"

Van Pelt turned to look behind her. "He was right—"

"I'm right here," Jane said, following Van Pelt into the ER waiting room. He looked at Lisbon for a long moment, and she realized she must look pretty alarming slouched in a wheelchair wearing scrubs at least two sizes too big and pale from blood loss.

"You all right?" she asked him.

He made a noise that might have turned into a laugh if he'd had the energy, and then lowered himself into the seat nearest her while Van Pelt corralled the nurse and began asking about discharge instructions. "I'm not the one in the hospital," he replied after a pause. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. The stitches will probably drive me crazy for a while, and my bikini-wearing days are apparently over, but that's it." She was proud of how nonchalant she sounded.

Jane reached for her good hand and held it, his thumb rubbing comfortingly against her palm. But the rest of him seemed miles away.

"Hey," she said softly. "What's wrong?"

"Red John is dead."

Lisbon squelched her initial reaction of "good riddance," knowing it was a) not what Jane wanted to hear and b) not really appropriate for a cop involved in the bust to say. But still, she hadn't expected silence to be Jane's way of dealing with the news. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Specifically, if you'll recall, I wanted to be the one to do it."

At least that sounded more like him. "I know."

"Spare me the lecture about how we're all in this together. Grace took care of that for you." He tried to pull his hand away from hers, but she held on tightly.

"I'm not going to lecture you. But I am going to say thank you."

He lifted his gaze to her for a moment, surprised.

"What?" she asked. "You ran into that house with no particular plan, as far as I can see, except trying to trade your life for mine. That doesn't deserve a thank you? I know perfectly well you wanted to go with Cho instead."

"I didn't think it was working," he admitted. "If I'd waited until the trace came through, I would have gone with Cho."

Now it all made sense to her. "So coming to help me was a mistake, you think."

His mouth twisted. "I'm not going to complain about the outcome, as far as you're concerned."

"But you're going to torture yourself—and the rest of us—sulking about the fact that somebody else got Red John while you were busy."

"I do not sulk," he grumbled.

Lisbon sighed. "Jane, I know you're going to need time to process this. But you don't have to do it alone. Please don't—don't run off again. Don't disappear."

"Where would I go?" he asked bitterly.

He must have sensed her distress at his non-answer, because he frowned a little as he finally lifted his head again and added, "I won't go anywhere you can't find me, Lisbon."

She tried to relax, to give him an encouraging smile. But his general air of dejection was breaking her heart, and she really just wanted to put her arms around him and make it all better. That wasn't going to happen for a variety of reasons, though, not least because Van Pelt was standing nearby waiting for a sign it was safe to approach. Lisbon caught her eye and said, "Let's go find a hotel. I need a shower, and I want my own clothes. And Jane, frankly, you reek."

"It might be you you're smelling," he replied.

"Ha, ha. Help me up."

"Boss," Van Pelt protested, trying to take control of the wheelchair.

"I can walk just fine. I just need a little help getting up," Lisbon snapped.

"It's no good arguing with her, Grace. She probably needs fed, too," Jane remarked, getting to his feet and holding out his hands.

"More help than that," Lisbon said, waving her injured hand at him. "And by the way, next time you try to hypnotize me into feeling no pain while I hurt myself, do a better job!"

Jane reached down and helped her shift forward until she got her feet under her. "I really hope that never comes up again," he admitted.

"And what was all that about how I should remember you?" she griped. "You're such a control freak, Jane. You can't even leave it to me to decide what I think about you after you're dead!"

"Dance on my grave for all I care," he said, keeping one arm around her shoulders as they carefully made their way to the door. "You'll have plenty of company." He paused, considering. "Maybe even enough for a square dance."

"Ow! No making me laugh!" She elbowed him in annoyance.

"Hotel and then pizza, I think, Grace," Jane said over his shoulder.

"Van Pelt, where are Cho and Rigsby?" Lisbon asked.

"Cho's wrapping things up with Martell and the local PD. Rigsby's handling the scene at Jane's house. Lorelei and her two accomplices are in the local lockup for now," Van Pelt replied.

"Good. It's too late to start back tonight, so let them know where we're staying when we get there."

"Yes, Boss."

mmm

Lisbon got up in the middle of the night to take more pain pills. Van Pelt was dead to the world on the other bed, and a stray beam of moonlight had slipped through the curtains. Lisbon went to tug them shut over the gap, but paused as she noticed a familiar figure outside. The sight of Jane leaning on the railing looking out at the empty night made her unbearably sad. Even now, with Red John dead, he couldn't sleep. She wondered what he was thinking, if he was dwelling on his perceived failures or if he was starting to let himself think of what the future might hold. Either way, she couldn't leave him out there alone.

Lisbon picked up the key from her table near the door and slid the chain off, opening the door carefully so as not to wake Van Pelt. "You okay?" she called softly when Jane looked over his shoulder at her.

"No," he replied. Then he shook his head a little. "But for the first time, I think I might be. Someday. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"It was time for more pills," she said, easing the door closed behind her and padding over in her bare feet to stand beside him. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but he probably wouldn't tell her anyway. So she just stood beside him, letting him know she was there.

"When the sun comes up in the morning," he said quietly, "it will shine on a world without Red John in it."

"Yes." She didn't bother to hide the satisfaction in her voice. "None of us ever have to worry about him again."

"Just his disciples," Jane said. "And...are we sure it was really him?"

"I talked to Cho earlier. Lorelei went into hysterics when he showed her the picture for ID. And it looks like this guy had serious money, which we always suspected. We'll find out for sure, but it looks like it was really him."

"I know I should be glad," Jane said after a moment. "And part of me is. But part of me hopes it's not true, that I still have a chance to keep the promise I made."

She realized he was twisting his wedding band around on his finger and bit her lip. She should have known better than to think Red John's death could set him free, she thought. Jane was his own jailer, and until he thought he was worthy of release, no external force could give him his freedom.

"Well, I definitely hope it was him, because I'm tired of this shit," she said. "Nobody better come at me with a knife for a while unless they want their head blown off."

Jane grinned a little. "Indomitable Lisbon. Your plan was crazy, you know. Much worse than any of mine."

"It got the desired result," she pointed out. "Not quite the way I meant it to, but it's not like you don't have to improvise sometimes."

"Point of order," he said, holding up a finger. "I have never used seduction to manipulate you."

"Neither did I," she objected.

"You kissed me for the first time under false pretenses, Lisbon," he murmured, still not looking at her.

"No, I didn't."

"Lisbon, I was there. You kissed me so you could get your hands in my pockets without my realizing what you were after."

"Only partly."

He finally turned to her. "Oh?"

She was glad it was dark out here, because she was sure she was blushing. "Mostly it was because I didn't want to die never having done it."

"And you've given it a lot of thought over the years?"

She wasn't sure whether it was amusement or incredulity she heard in his voice. "Jane, every woman you've ever met has thought about it. Don't pretend you don't know that. I'm just not supposed to admit it because I'm your boss. Despite your stubborn refusal to act like you realize that."

"So is your curiosity satisfied? I'd like to point out that I was not at my best at the time. I actually think you owe me another chance."

"Maybe. Most of the time you're either irritating me or burying me in complaint paperwork, so there's not a lot of time for experiments," she said. "Besides, if you ever tried to kiss me, I'd immediately wonder what you're up to."

"Despite the fact that only one of us is guilty of kissing as a diversionary tactic, and it's not me. You're the untrustworthy one in this situation, Lisbon."

She couldn't tell if he was serious. "Yes, my one little kiss stacked up against all the crap you've pulled over the last ten years. Yeah, I'm the untrustworthy one. Right."

"I may have been unable to resist the temptation to play with your mind, Lisbon. But I'd never play with your heart."

Okay, that sounded serious, she thought. Was he just messing with her, or did he really think she didn't care? She'd always assumed he knew how she felt about him, even if she'd never taken the time to figure out a label for it herself. It didn't feel like anything else she'd ever experienced: it was deep and powerful and damn scary. Maybe, she realized, it was scary for him too. Especially since his head had to be a mess right now. "Jane," she said uncertainly. "I wasn't—I didn't—I don't play games. You always say I'm translucent—couldn't you tell that I meant it?"

He smiled. "Yes. But some things need saying, Teresa. I didn't know if you could tell you meant it. Or that I did."

"That part I had figured out," she assured him.

"Good," he said. He framed her face with his hands and leaned in to press his lips to hers.

This kiss couldn't have been more different from their first. For one thing, her injuries meant there was not much body contact; everything was focused in what their mouths were communicating to each other. The slow sweetness washed over all the terrible things that had happened to them that day, that year, all those years and left bright hope it their place. It felt like a beginning, and she hoped he recognized that too.

"Sweet dreams, Teresa," he murmured when they finally parted.

"You will try to sleep, won't you?" she asked.

He walked her the three steps to her door. "Yes, I'll try to sleep. But you're the one who really needs the rest. I'll see you in the morning."

The morning without Red John, she thought, smiling. "For breakfast. There's got to be a good diner around here somewhere."

"There is. We used to go—" He broke off and bit his lip. When he spoke again, he sounded uncertain. "I think you'll like it."

"I'm sure I will." She looked closely at him, wishing she could see more clearly in the shadows. "You're sure you're all right?"

"Never better," he assured her, managing a smile.

"I'm right here if you need me."

"I know," he said, his smile softening. "I've always known."

As she closed the door behind her, she closed her eyes and said a quick prayer: that he would sleep, and dream of sunrises and perfectly cooked eggs and all the good memories of his family, instead of the bad ones. There was still so much to do, and it wouldn't be easy, but now that their path had been cleared of its biggest obstacle, she thought they might be headed somewhere good after all.

Then she got into bed and fell asleep, smiling.


	16. Chapter 16: Epilogue

**Title:** A Change of Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with The Mentalist, or really anything profit-generating.

**Author's Note:** Here's the epilogue, especially for Chiisana Minako, who asked so nicely! It's a little long, but I'm terrible at knowing where to end things, so I'm sorry if it rambles. For all of you who reviewed, favorited, alerted, or just read this far, you have made me so happy! I'm grateful I found this wonderful, supportive community, and I know I'm going to enjoy the new season so much more because of all of you!

**Chapter 16: Epilogue**

_Seven and a half months later_

Teresa Lisbon peered through the large glass window, scanning the row until she found the person she was looking for. The baby was awake, and she could see that her eyes were blue (the wrong blue) and she was cute rather than beautiful. _Jane was right,_ she thought. _Not his_.

Still, it would be a relief when the test results came in. They'd come all this way to where Lorelei—originally Mary Jenkins from Mason City, Iowa, now called Lila Page courtesy of the Witness Protection Program—had settled to have her child after helping round up what she knew of Red John's network, and Lisbon just wanted the whole thing over with. She knew Jane did too; though he'd been playing it cool the whole way to San Diego, he'd been uncharacteristically clingy last night. She was surprised he'd slept at all, though she'd certainly done her best to wear him out.

Footsteps and the crinkle of a wrapper alerted her that she was no longer alone before a hand landed on her shoulder and Jane said, "I love how you smile when you're thinking about me."

She smelled rich, dark chocolate and grinned up at him. "Maybe I'm just hungry."

He offered her the bar, and she took a bite, making a point of sucking some of the chocolate coating off first and slanting her gaze up at him mischievously.

"Behave, Agent Lisbon, or I'll have to report you for contributing to the delinquency of minors," he grinned. Then he turned to the window and asked, "Which one is she?"

"Third from the left," Lisbon replied. "Doesn't look a thing like you, does she?"

"How could she?" he asked calmly, as if he'd never entertained a doubt at all. Which she knew wasn't true, but old habits died hard, and his instinct would always be to conceal uncertainty or weakness.

They were silent for a moment, until Jane said, "Just ask me, Lisbon. I'm either going to give you a straight answer or not, but waiting won't affect the outcome."

So much for her hope that he might be more open, more reliable now that they were together, she thought. Though she supposed he was reliably Jane, the same irritating, unpredictable, charming, feckless man he'd always been. Still, she wasn't sure this was a wise question, especially since they'd only been sleeping together for a couple of months. It had taken longer than she'd anticipated for them to work through their individual healing processes and find the courage to share their scars, both physical and psychological. It was an ongoing process. "Do you ever think about doing it again? Fatherhood?"

"Are you offering?" he teased.

"Not at this time," she responded in the same tone.

"Good. Because it may surprise you, but I prefer to do things in the traditional order."

He must have felt her tense, because his hand moved from her shoulder to the base of her neck, and he began rubbing his thumb in slow circles there. He'd gotten very good at getting her to relax, no matter what outrageous thing he was saying at the time. And it _was_ outrageous, she told herself firmly. It was one thing to be sleeping with her consultant—at least that could be done with discretion (or, as Jane insisted on calling it, paranoid, obsessive secrecy). Putting on a ring and announcing to the team, the CBI, her brothers, and the whole world that they were a couple was an entirely different concept, and she wasn't anywhere in that vicinity yet.

"Don't worry; I'm not asking," he murmured into her ear. "Just...introducing the topic for you to mull over in your spare time. Let me know if you ever feel like discussing it. Here, have more chocolate."

She took another bite of the candy bar without really thinking about it. Dammit, she thought, he had to know that she wouldn't be able to get rid of the idea now that he'd planted it. But of course that was his plan: the more she thought about it, the more used to the idea she'd get, and the less impossible it would seem. She'd probably wake up one morning and think it was the most natural thing in the world.

She'd get her revenge, though: for one thing, she was only getting married if she could do it in church. Making Jane go through pre-marriage counseling with a priest was either a brilliant stroke of revenge for all the times he'd annoyed her, or the very worst idea anyone had ever had in the entire history of ideas.

"Do you want to go see her mother?" Lisbon asked.

Jane shook his head. "I only came down here because you insisted. We'll do whatever you need to do to put this to rest, but as far as I'm concerned we can just spend the rest of the weekend on the beach."

_You are so full of it_, she didn't say, knowing he'd hear her anyway. But she wasn't surprised that Jane didn't want to see Lorelei again. He'd spent quite a bit of time with her after Red John's death, persuading her that the only way to make sure her baby stayed out of foster care was to avoid prison by cooperating with them. Once convinced, her testimony had been invaluable in rooting out Red John's network, although Lorelei didn't appear to know about everyone, since she hadn't identified the mole in the FBI.

Lisbon was both grateful for and worried about the fact that identifying Red John's disciples had kept the team so busy. She wondered sometimes if Jane would get bored with solving cases without his nemesis to drive him. When there were no more moles to root out, would he get restless? He seemed content to carry on for now, and in fact had put some effort into his other relationships at the CBI, but the doubt still plagued her.

"Let's get some lunch," Jane suggested. "I saw a lovely little cafe on the drive into town."

mmm

When they'd finished a lovely meal and were relaxing at their outdoor table, enjoying the sunshine, sea breeze, and the luxury of wine at lunchtime, Jane said, "Run away with me, Lisbon."

She stared at him, wondering if he'd just said what she thought he just said.

"Not for forever. Just for a little while," he assured her.

"How long is a little while?"

"A month?"

"A week," she countered.

He grinned. If she was negotiating, he knew he already had her. "Three weeks."

"Two weeks," she said. "That's all I can afford."

"Nonsense. You must have months of accumulated leave," he scoffed. "You work constantly. You've taken exactly three vacations in all the years I've known you."

"There's a reason for that."

"Yes, but I'm going with you, so you don't have to worry about what I'm doing in your absence," he pointed out. "Cho's more than capable. The team, the CBI, and the good citizens of California can all do without you for two weeks. Or longer."

"Two weeks. But only if I approve the destination," she said. "What did you have in mind?"

"Somewhere with a beach," he mused. "And I suppose it has to be a foreign country, because I want it to be somewhere you'll allow me to hold your hand in public."

He'd complained about that before, even though he had no one to blame but himself, she thought irritably. But she wasn't going to hint that he should take his wedding ring off, because he needed to do that when he was ready and not a moment before.

"Foreign beach vacations aren't exactly in my budget," she said.

"Not a problem. I have all that money from selling the land."

She hadn't asked him how much he'd gotten from the sale, but he'd once remarked that Red John had done him a favor: It was much easier selling the land than a house where a gruesome murder had once taken place. He'd been moody and morose immediately before, during, and after the sale, though. Letting go of the past wasn't something that came easily to him. "You should buy another house with it so you don't have to pay capital gains," she said. Though she had to admit, she liked the cozy little apartment he'd finally managed to commit to.

He laughed. "Who are you, and what have you done with Teresa Lisbon?"

"I dated an accountant once."

"Oh? When was that?"

"Once," she smiled. "Do you think I'd ever sit through more than one conversation about capital gains?"

"Does that mean I'll have to handle all the finances once we're married?"

"Well, I'll be too busy ducking all the flying pigs to do it myself," she retorted.

He grinned. "You're being awfully mean to someone who wants to take you on an exotic vacation, and who may even be persuaded to spring for a spa day if asked nicely."

"You always think I'm up to something if I'm nice to you."

"Because you're always up to something when you're nice to me. Anyway, it doesn't happen that often. Do you realize you're much snarkier at work than you used to be? I know it doesn't seem possible, but I've heard it remarked on."

"You didn't expect me to go around humming and daydreaming, did you?"

"No, but it would be nice, just every once in a while, to have some evidence that I make you happy."

"Since when do you need evidence? Which you get plenty of, by the way, in private," she pointed out, picking up her glass and draining the last of her wine. Who would ever have thought that Jane was insecure like the rest of humanity, she marveled.

"That's very selective and specific feedback," he said. "I'm serious now, Lisbon. There's something holding you back, and I'd like to know what it is."

She couldn't help herself—she looked at the damn ring. He followed her gaze and said, "Ah."

His air of surprise took her aback. How had he not figured that out? "I'm not asking you to take it off. Not until you're ready. But you can't expect me to publicly commit to a married man."

"No. No, I can't," he said thoughtfully.

"But that's really just part of a larger problem," she said. In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought. "I have no idea what your perspective is on all this. What are you planning to do once we've found the last mole?"

"Is there something I need to be planning?" he frowned. "I think a celebration would be in order. And I keep hearing rumors about a promotion for Cho, though I think there's only about a 50/50 chance he'll take it."

"And what about the rumors about you?"

"There are rumors about me? I mean, beyond the ones that have been going around for years about how I must be blackmailing you or hypnotizing you or using my freaky powers to keep you from shooting me?"

Seriously? He was usually her best connection to the grapevine, and he wasn't hearing all the speculation about his leaving? Or was he just pretending not to know? She was beginning to think she needed a third glass of wine, despite the fact that would mean Jane had to drive. "There's a pool going on how soon you're going to quit the CBI."

He laughed. "Oh, that! All you had to do was ask. Cho and Rigsby already got the inside scoop. The only problem is how long they're going to have to wait to collect. You can probably still get in on the action, though I think once people find out which way you're betting, the payoff won't be nearly as good."

"I don't care about the pool," she snapped.

He looked surprised for a second, but one look at her face was all he needed to figure out what she was really asking. "I have no plans to leave, Lisbon. Where the hell would I go? Back to the psychic business? You'd hate that. You'd hate it worse than Angela did, and that's saying something."

She felt herself soften—talking about his family was something he'd been working on, and she knew it was still hard for him. But still, there was a point to be made here, and he had either missed it or was glossing over it. "Jane, you have to choose your career path based on what you want to do, not what I think about it."

"But what you think about it matters to me," he protested. "Besides, outsmarting criminals is fulfilling, if not financially rewarding. Getting to see you all day every day doesn't hurt either. Why on earth would I walk away from that?"

Lisbon didn't reply, looking around for the waiter instead. This was turning into a much bigger conversation than she'd intended, and she needed fortification. Maybe more wine was a bad idea, but something gooey and chocolatey would do the trick. Jane looked amused while she ordered, but his expression gradually turned serious again.

"My stint in Vegas did more damage than I realized," he said. "Even after all this time. Is it because you've always been the one to leave before?"

"Stop psychoanalyzing me, at least until I have some chocolate," she retorted.

"All right. I'll just point out that I'm the one with reason to worry. I've never known you to date anyone more than a few times. And my knowledge of how you think is only going to buy me so much time. Is all this talk about my leaving CBI really you wanting me to, so it's less awkward when you decide you're done with me personally?"

"No," she said quickly. Then she thought about it for a moment. "No, I don't think so," she said more calmly. "But I can't start thinking about being in this for the long haul if I'm not sure you are too."

"Fair enough." He started to say something else, but her cell phone rang.

She picked it up. "Lisbon."

"Agent Lisbon, you asked to be notified when we received the paternity results from Isabel Page. We've excluded Mr. Jane as the father."

Lisbon could feel the smile breaking out on her face, and she tried to keep the joy out of her voice as she said, "Thank you. I appreciate you letting me know so quickly." She barely remembered to say good-bye before hanging up.

Jane was smiling back; it was obvious what the news was. She still wanted to say it to him. "You're not the baby's father."

"The sun rises in the east," he replied in the same excited tone. "The sky is blue. And that—" he paused as the waiter set a small mountain of chocolate brownie, vanilla and mint ice cream, and chocolate sauce between them "—is enough dessert for the entire Serious Crimes Unit."

"Ha, ha. Admit it: There was a possibility."

"There's also a possibility a meteor will hurtle out of the sky and annihilate us where we sit, but I'm not worried about that either," he said, picking up his spoon and examining the dessert, looking for the best angle of attack. "We'll still want someone checking on them, you know. To make sure she's not trying to raise another psychotic killer to walk in his footsteps."

"Yes. That's why I was so relieved she was a girl. Much less statistical chance of her becoming a serial killer," Lisbon said. She finally managed to get a spoonful that combined all the flavors and put it in her mouth, closing her eyes and savoring it.

When she opened her eyes again, Jane was grinning at her. "I love watching you eat ice cream."

"Good, because you're going to see a lot of it in the next few minutes," she replied. "We're celebrating, after all. Now, tell me more about this exotic beach."

"Ha. I'm on to your plan, Lisbon. If I'm talking, I'm not eating, leaving more for you."

They finished off the dessert in a remarkably short time, and Jane signaled for the waiter and asked for the check. When it came, Lisbon made sure to snatch it first. "My turn," she said firmly.

He shrugged. "If you insist."

She was pleased he'd finally acknowledged the futility of trying to pay for all their shared meals. It took her a minute to look over the list of things they'd ordered to confirm that yes, they really had spent that much on lunch, and then pull out her credit card. When she looked up again, Jane was staring down at his ring thoughtfully.

"When you're ready," she said gently. "I'm not asking anything."

"But you're never going to believe in us until I do," he pointed out. "And the reason I haven't taken it off isn't because I have doubts. It's just...I promised myself when she put it on my finger that I'd never take it off. And I haven't. But maybe this is one more promise that I have to admit I'm not able to keep."

He still hadn't fully come to terms with not keeping his promise to kill Red John, she knew. "You can take all the time you need," she said. "I don't blame you for having a hard time with it. I admire that you take it so seriously. Marriage should be taken seriously. I'd be unhappy if you didn't."

He nodded, then slowly slid the gold band off his finger and looked at it. She could tell by the tension lines around his mouth that his was an emotional moment for him, and she made herself sit quietly so as not to intrude. When the waiter came back with the credit card slip, she was grateful for the distraction as she quickly calculated the tip and signed.

"Maybe I could start with taking it off for a few minutes at a time," Jane mused. He glanced up at her hopefully. "Maybe you could offer me an incentive?"

She smiled. "Let's go for a walk on the beach. You can hold my hand."

He looked down at the ring again, then slid it into his inner jacket pocket, over his heart. Lisbon found it touching; Angela and Charlotte were always going to be in his heart, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

She got to her feet and held out her hand to him, her heart fluttering a little at the brilliant smile he gave her as he took it. She couldn't resist giving him a quick kiss; his lips tasted of chocolate and the red wine he'd been drinking.

"Mm. We should have dessert after every meal," he decided as they started down the sidewalk.

"Tell me about this exotic beach you have in mind," she asked. "Somewhere tropical?"

"If you like. I was thinking more Mediterranean, but on second thought, maybe we should save that for a special occasion."

"Our first vacation isn't a special occasion?"

"Not as special as the honeymoon will be."

"You know, it would be nice if you would at least pretend not to take my cooperation for granted when you come up with crazy ideas."

"Then you'd just accuse me of withholding information, or lying, or some such nonsense. Don't you get enough of that at work?" he grinned.

"You do realize that this scheme of yours would mean we couldn't work together anymore, right?"

"What, you think you can find another team to put up with me?" he laughed. "And Bertram isn't going to give me up, especially since consultants fall into a gray area in the rulebook. No, I'm not worried about that. If anyone gives you any flak, you can just tell them it's a brilliant management tactic: you finally discovered the right leverage to make me behave. It's far less fun to annoy you when it might result in being tossed out to sleep by myself."

She tried to picture herself saying that to anyone and couldn't help laughing. "I hadn't noticed that effect. Really?"

"Your complaint paperwork load has gone down, hasn't it?"

It was true that he seemed to have slightly more tolerance for the irksome these days, but she hadn't made the connection he was claiming. "Wow. If I'd known it was that easy, I would have slept with you years ago. Next time they ask me to present at a management seminar, I'll blow them out of the water with this topic."

"You know, your sarcasm was one of the first things I liked about you," he recalled. "I knew you'd never bore me the first time I heard you threaten to make Cho wear a stupid hat with a straight face."

She thought back. "I thought you were the best-looking jackass I'd ever met. And I knew you were going to torpedo my career someday; it was only a question of how long it would take."

"And yet here you are, still employed by the CBI. Despite several close calls, which I take full credit for resolving happily."

"Of course you do."

They'd reached the beach now and paused, looking up and down the coast to see which direction promised a better walk. "Well?" she asked.

"You choose," he replied. "I'll follow your lead."

"Better watch out; I could get used to that," she warned.

He chuckled. "Don't worry. I'm not promising to become predictable."

She wouldn't want him to, she knew. After another glance at both alternatives, she chose north, toward home.

**Author's Note:** Okay, I can hear some of you saying, "But you skipped the best part!" Yes, those 7.5 months were probably really interesting and worth writing about, but they're not part of this story. Maybe someday I'll circle back and fill in with a sequel, but for now my brain is fizzed out on the angst. All it will throw at me is weird parody ideas like "Agent Cho Hosts the Emmys" ("That's enough. Take your statue and go. Now.") or "Jane and Lisbon Get Married, As Seen on TLC" ("I put up with you hypnotizing the caterer, but leave the priest alone!"), neither of which I have any intention of inflicting on anybody. Hopefully the premiere tonight will spark something in my head. Even if it doesn't, I'm very much looking forward to seeing what you all come up with!


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